A new stage...
A new stage of life: retirement. Gulp...gulp...gulp!
24 hours from now, I will have entered a new stage of life: retirement.
Gulp...gulp...gulp! (yes...that is onomatopoeia for swallowing repeatedly to dryness felt where the throat curves down into the windpipe...)
For now, that word means...stopping income producing meaningful activity such that I do not have (as in obligatory) to leave the house and go brave traffic and the incidentals that come with that), such as avoiding I-85:Atlanta Downtown speeding lane drivers switcheroo's from the outward-most left lane to the innermost right side exit, barely visible in my right side rear-view mirror, without having to stop and call 911 for emergency oxygen; or not processing further how my not slamming on the brakes would have culminated in hitting the aggressive-phone-toting-oblivious-careless- ignoramus-driver as he/she cut in front of my 'fender' (not existent in modern cars anymore, right? - but what do we call that part of the car, anyway?), missing it by inches, and leaving me with a sudden pulse increase of at least 20 beats? Exciting stuff, really: nerve shattering ATL driving - welcome!
And then, having arrived safely (really? - stress buildup hopefully does not have a cumulative effect...?) at the parking lot, forcing myself to believe in the providential act of someone leaving for lunch elsewhere, thus clearing a slot to park in, and if not, driving in circles waiting for that to happen before I get tired of circling and nodding yet once more to the parking attendant, as I go by, and then fearfully deciding to park in the corner space - the one all striped down with yellow lines but which is sufficiently large to allow for the small Yaris to fit in, and hope that the car will not be booted, and 3 vivid colored stickers taped to the driver side windows with all kinds of "WARNING"!, and violation notices, costing over $75 at least, and thus my way of contributing a huge chunk of my payday to someone's bulging coffers. Agggghhh!!!!
Maybe I will not miss that! So will that be good...?
But, what about having to 'deep-end' (pronounce slowly) on a stable income? Safe, solid, but invariable upward, that is.
And what if the expenses override ... And will Mr. Rom-Money (R) accuse me of "pillaging the national coffers"? Will I end up as part of the 47%? ...when I will really be part of the 99?...
And what about role changes? I will become the "householder" now? Is this life's way of making me, or us - retiring males, understand how wives feel and felt as we went off to work and they had to face a "General electric idyllic setting with all the luxuries modern science (and the economy) had to offer to make their lives better"? Shhhhh!!!!! Humor not so easily understood! (What goes around comes around...is that the lesson here?)
What are the rules in this (new) space? Who writes them? Will I be able to..._____, and to..._____, (fill in the blank with labels of ordinary - fun - activities). "But only after you...walk the dogs, pick up the kitchen, make up the bed, water the plants, change the A/C filter, pay the bills (some)....aaaaagggghhhh!!!
The only certainty is that change changes...nothing stays 'put'!
Yes.
24 hours from now, I will have entered a new stage of life: retirement.
Gulp...gulp...gulp! (yes...that is onomatopoeia for swallowing repeatedly to dryness felt where the throat curves down into the windpipe...)
For now, that word means...stopping income producing meaningful activity such that I do not have (as in obligatory) to leave the house and go brave traffic and the incidentals that come with that), such as avoiding I-85:Atlanta Downtown speeding lane drivers switcheroo's from the outward-most left lane to the innermost right side exit, barely visible in my right side rear-view mirror, without having to stop and call 911 for emergency oxygen; or not processing further how my not slamming on the brakes would have culminated in hitting the aggressive-phone-toting-oblivious-careless- ignoramus-driver as he/she cut in front of my 'fender' (not existent in modern cars anymore, right? - but what do we call that part of the car, anyway?), missing it by inches, and leaving me with a sudden pulse increase of at least 20 beats? Exciting stuff, really: nerve shattering ATL driving - welcome!
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| If you can read it, you are too close and not driving! |
Maybe I will not miss that! So will that be good...?
But, what about having to 'deep-end' (pronounce slowly) on a stable income? Safe, solid, but invariable upward, that is.
And what if the expenses override ... And will Mr. Rom-Money (R) accuse me of "pillaging the national coffers"? Will I end up as part of the 47%? ...when I will really be part of the 99?...
And what about role changes? I will become the "householder" now? Is this life's way of making me, or us - retiring males, understand how wives feel and felt as we went off to work and they had to face a "General electric idyllic setting with all the luxuries modern science (and the economy) had to offer to make their lives better"? Shhhhh!!!!! Humor not so easily understood! (What goes around comes around...is that the lesson here?)
What are the rules in this (new) space? Who writes them? Will I be able to..._____, and to..._____, (fill in the blank with labels of ordinary - fun - activities). "But only after you...walk the dogs, pick up the kitchen, make up the bed, water the plants, change the A/C filter, pay the bills (some)....aaaaagggghhhh!!!
Yes.
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