The R word: retirement

That’s a Sunday? Yes, I know. My last day of work is June 28, but I don’t have to start handing over my Medicare Part B card until July 1.

People keep asking me, “What are you going to do now?” The quick answer, and not entirely untrue, is “Everything that I’m doing now except I won’t be going to work.” More than one recently-retired friend has quipped that the job gets in the way of the other stuff.

I mentioned recently how busy the weekends are, in particular. I’ve blown off meetings, rehearsals, even events I was looking forward to because it was all too much.

I’ve known for at least two years I would retire this year if I possibly could. The timing is based on a number of factors:

My wife, who is a teacher, and my daughter, who is a student, will be out of school in the summer. This means we can all go somewhere together. Our primary limitation getting away is finding someone to feed our cats, one of whom is finicky about who he lets in the house.

My daughter and I are going to Indiana, the state of Mike Pence and Pete Buttigieg, in July, on a church-related trip. I’ve never been TO Indiana, through I went THROUGH it on a train twice. Ah, state #31 for me.

No more fretting about going back to work and dealing with 666 emails. I’ll have ZERO work emails. My list of personal emails, which has grown tremendously in the last six months, will diminish, as I take those reminders and turn them into blog post or tasks I want to finish.

I WILL finally get to that pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Old copies of The New Yorker, unread, will finally get the love they deserve. The three Marvel movies I recorded months ago will eventually exit the DVR queue.

I have no plans to take up golf at this time.