Retirement Afterglow

At home in Fort Worth...

Small pleasures abound in retirement.  The nefarious alarm clock that has controlled the beginning of my day for decades sits there, mute and dejected, as if it knows its sadistic six o’clock ritual has been banished forever. I simply arise when it suits me now.  Sandy and I can have a leisurely breakfast or, if there’s some adventure waiting, we can  get going quickly and grab something on the road. And under no circumstances do I allow my route of travel or the timing thereof cause me to mingle with the several hundred thousand commuters in the demolition derby known as rush hour on the DFW traffic arteries.  Only a week ago, I was among these poor slobs, grinding my teeth and hoping my defensive driving skills would be adequate to save me from any number of zombies talking on their cell phones or even texting as they hurtle mindlessly along the interstate in their two-ton projectiles. 

I had heard that the date and time of day become less relevant to retirees, and it is indeed true.  It is almost a given that I will pull out my cell phone now whenever I have a need to know the date or the day of the week.  One of the most popular items available online to retirees is a clock with only the days of the week on it instead of the time.  I think I need one.

When I need a nap, I take one.  I used to take naps at the office, too, but they weren’t necessarily intended.  One bright note is that the older you get, the more likely your coworkers are to overlook the old guy who nods off occasionally. This only gets really embarrassing when you are in a meeting in which you are the featured speaker.

I wonder if I will reach a point in the future when I will renounce this slothful existence and make something of myself?  

I doubt it.