It came to a head one evening. Instead of watching whatever movie I had running on my TV, I paced around the apartment. I didn't get to bed till midnight (on a school night!) and then, when in bed, didn't get much sleep.

40 years, and I was stuck. If I let it go on, I would be mid-40s and still stuck. And even more depressed than I was.

Then I made a backwards calendar in my head. Back from the last day. Back from the day of announcement. And then back to the actual date. I had about a month left. I was going to make this change.

And that weekend I told a couple friends. One said it sounded like I was a battered spouse (the way I described the situation), and another only challenged me slightly before realizing the decision was sound.

I only doubted myself a couple of times, and only fleetingly, in the next few weeks before the announcement. When I had to keep it to myself (because the last time I didn't keep it to myself, probably to my detriment). And it was, of course, about money. Always the big stone in the door.

But then it isn't about money anymore. Even when it is. So the countdown continued.

"You still gonna do it?" my friends asked. "Yep," I said.

And then the announcement was met with complete acceptance (and no resistance) by those who responded first. So I had my answer, I thought.

Two more weeks, and I'd be done. The change would begin. I began to look forward to all the things I'd suddenly have time to do. A bunch of writing projects. Hiking. Dollar movies matinees with the old people. The occasional lost week. Laundry on a day other than Saturday.

It was gonna be great. Until, of course, I had to find another job (in the new year, most likely). But even then, it seemed like I was opening up tons of possibilities. Obviously this thing I'd been doing for over ten years wasn't working out. No one thought I was doing a great job (even though I was, for the most part). I'm a smart, mostly capable guy, and it was a perfect time to change my career trajectory.

Then I got a phone call from my recently quit boss (he'd quit in July, and that action had been one of the reasons for me to wonder why I was sticking around). He wanted to make sure he wouldn't get the blame for my quitting. And, maybe, he could help facilitate a deal. A way to keep me around. But the numbers he was talking weren't anywhere close to the ones in my head. I appreciated the gesture, but didn't think they would go for my demands.

I emailed my last and final offer the next day. They said they'd work on it. Time was running out, I needed an answer by the beginning of the Tuesday after Labor Day.

And then they basically caved. Gave me what I wanted without demand for anything extra in return. And without me explaining why I would demand such a number in the first place.

So the change, in the way I wanted, will not come for a while. It's hard to say no when they give you what you want. Like, if I did, I was just jerking them around. I'm not a fan of jerking people around.

So things stay the same except for that number every couple of weeks. It's bigger.

And that bigger number will help when the change actually comes. Whenever that is. I haven't put it on the calendar yet.

Matt Worley skied in Durango, Colo., back when it was called Purgatory. Sometimes he feels like he's there again, even though he hasn't skied in a decade.