The If Plan.

About ten years ago, I had the worst boss on the face of the planet. I worked in marketing in the travel industry and reported to a VP who was power-hungry, condescending and had no concept of the word team.

She did her best to remind us that we were beneath her -- both on the org chart and in life.

"Jess," she said to me one day, summoning an air of superiority, "you'll find that in the upper echelon," (she said this, gesturing to her enormous chest and oak desk) "things are just different."

And then she proceeded to deliver one of her infamous monologues, which was never related to any project I was actually working on for her, where she spoke about being a woman in a man's world and the rewards for fighting her way to the top.

She had a flair for the dramatic - so much so that I often envisioned her delivering these speeches with majestic background music and a wind machine.

Generally I'd walk back to my cubicle wondering why she wasted an hour of my time when she knew I had piles and piles of work waiting for me -- work that she gave me no less.

The Great Speeches in and of themselves weren't the worst part about working for her -- it was her inability to clearly communicate project work. She was one of those people who recognized that information is power and therefore felt that withholding information -- even info necessary for her employees to complete their jobs -- made her more powerful.

It was like this: If she knew you needed A, B and C to a job, when assigning the work, she'd give you A, hint that there might be a B and leave out any reference to C whatsoever. Then, a week later, she'd spring C on you, causing you to start over.

And what I couldn't figure out, was that she had no concept that if a leader treats his/her team well, they'll work harder for you, and ultimately, make you (the boss) look good. By sabotaging our team's projects, she was ultimately sabotaging herself.

I endured this woman for about two years, until thankfully, our company was re-orged and I was moved to another team.

But during those awful two years, as I drove to work, hating my job more and more with every mile, I dreamed of putting in my notice and going into business for myself.

I called my dream my If Plan.

If I were to get laid off...
If I had enough money...
If I just couldn't take my boss anymore...
If I had the balls to actually do it...

I think everyone at some point dreams of chucking the day job and doing their own thing. Maybe it's opening a bakery or a retail store or writing a book. My dream began to take shape when I'd drop the twins off at daycare and begin my daily commute to that awful job.

My If Plan involves opening my own daycare center. Not just a home-based business, but a real, honest-to-goodness center with offices and a playground. I'd have staff, a good 30 kids or so, and while I know it'd be hard work, it'd be worth it because it'd be mine.

What makes my If Plan feel like a remotely feasible possibility is that back then, I had the twins at such a center. It had been started by a team of moms, who, thinking they could do better than the centers available for their children, took a risk. To this day, it's the best daycare center I've ever seen. Hands down. (And with all the moving we've done, I've seen a lot of centers in my time.)

This daycare center -- run by moms like me -- became my inspiration. My If Plan.

What saved me from chucking everything back then was my family's financial situation. We simply couldn't afford for me to take such a risk. Plus, while I hated my boss, I loved my work and felt that I should just tough it out -- which I did.

But every so often, even when I'm blissfully happy with my job, the dream creeps up and I find myself scoping out commercial real estate, looking for ample parking and space for a play yard.

I recently revived my If Plan and, even though I love my current job and have no intention of leaving, began to investigate what it'd take to get it off the ground. I put together a spreadsheet to determine my overhead, tuition and staffing needs. I reviewed state licensing requirements and put together a rough business plan.

And when the President delivered his State of the Union address, a tiny part of me felt he was talking to me when he called for incentives for small business entrepreneurs.

"The President wants me to open a daycare," I said to Mark, only half joking.

Truly, I have no intention of leaving a job I genuinely like to pursue the If Plan. I like the security of medical benefits and the company match to my 401(k) a little too much to take such a risk.

But it's fun to have the fantasy. To play it out in my head. To keep it filed away just in case someday, my If becomes a reality.