28 Days to Launch | Life as a Corporate Ghost

There's something surreal about being a corporate ghost. I still have my meetings and deadlines, but watching the team plan for "after Kathy" feels like watching a movie where I used to be a main character. The calendar invites for the typical January meetings aren't landing in my inbox. I know there are meetings I won't attend, projects I won't lead, and decisions I won't need to make.

The funny thing about this in-between time? Your role starts fading before you actually leave. Questions that once would have been urgent now flow to others. Future plans are being made around your absence. You're simultaneously essential and optional - needed for the transition but not for the destination. A quote I found by T.S. Eliot touches on this scenario:

"The greatest proof of life is not the work we do, but the work that is done after we're gone."

Our contributions might feel essential at the time but, eventually, life and work will continue without us, as if we're just one part of an ongoing process. Obviously I'm not the first, nor the last, to feel this way. It's just part of the journey.

With the annual budget complete and the great office paper purge almost finished, my focus is shifting. Sometimes I catch myself automatically starting to solve a work problem, then remember it's not mine to solve anymore. It's like muscle memory slowly being reprogrammed. The team is already finding their own rhythms and creating their own solutions.

As my corporate inbox gets quieter, my attention will turn toward home. Another great purge awaits - this time sorting through years of accumulated "stuff" we neither need nor use. We're starting with the shed and garage, which have become accidental time capsules of projects planned but never started. Each item faces the same question: does this belong in our next chapter?

The house is next on our list, room by room. It's like a treasure hunt in reverse - finding things we can add to the garage sale pile and rediscovering items that might actually be useful in our camper travels. Meanwhile, camping essentials we purchased are arriving (early Christmas, anyone?), creating an interesting balance of letting go and gathering new. The garage has become command central for organizing our future life.

Between sorting sessions, we're preparing for another new adventure - learning to shoot and edit video. We decided to start a YouTube channel after the new year, beginning with unboxing videos of our carefully selected camping gear. Who knew being a corporate ghost would create space for becoming content creators? The irony of documenting our journey toward simpler living while learning to use new tech and apps isn't lost on me. Maybe our story will inspire others considering the same path or those who didn't realize there are other options.

December feels different when you know it's your last corporate one. The usual year-end rush has been replaced by a strange kind of peace. I'm learning that letting go isn't a single moment - it's a gradual release of responsibilities, relationships, routines, and yes, even stuff we've outgrown.

TRANSITION UPDATES:
Corporate Exit:
The ghost period is in full swing. Each week brings a new "this is the last time I'll do this" moment. The team is stepping up beautifully, finding their own ways to handle things I used to manage. My days are full providing background information on the "whys" of what we do, answering questions to shore up understanding of processes, and helping them tackle unexpected scenarios. It's like watching them develop their own problem-solving muscles—they're getting stronger every day.

Virtual Bookkeeping Business:
Hand-written Christmas cards went out to all our clients—because in this age of AI chatbots and phone trees, a personal touch shows how much we truly value their business. We're finding our rhythm with the new website, creating weekly blog posts and social media content to help small business owners on their journeys, while learning valuable lessons along our own path.

Truck/Camper:
We have a VIN number! Our Maverick will be built the week of February 3rd—we're officially soon-to-be truck parents! The camper is expected in mid to late January, so we might bring it home with the Jeep. This timing gives us space to focus on home organization and decluttering. Turns out, letting go of corporate life naturally leads to questioning what else we're ready to release.

What we're learning:
• Letting go happens in layers
• The best transitions often happen naturally
• Being present means something different now
• Sometimes watching from the sidelines is a gift

As the countdown continues, each week brings a new layer of transition. Some changes feel as straightforward as reorganizing a closet, while others touch deeper questions about what we want our next chapter to look like. But that's the thing about major life changes—they have a way of making you examine everything, from how you spend your days to what truly matters. Twenty-eight days out, we're discovering that letting go isn't just about leaving a job—it's about making space for whatever comes next.