People who recoil from retirement annoy me. They claim they would not know what to do with themselves if they did not have a job. They may have a job but they don't have a life.
I used to keep a list of the things I want to do after I retire. One day it occurred to me that I might not live that long. (No, there is nothing wrong with me, but my mother did pass at age 54, so the possibility of premature death hangs over me.) After that, I started trying to squeeze those future plans into the present.
But there are not enough hours in the day for everything I want to do. Yoga classes meet the same nights as charity knitting at the library and therapy night at Knitting Off Broadway, but I really need the yoga. No time to learn Spanish or ballroom dancing or ice skating. No time to volunteer at the food co-op or the county parks. Only so many vacation days for travel. The books on homemade pet food are going back to the library, along those on heirloom vegetables (maybe next year). I went to Greencastle last year, so now I'm thinking I'll skip this year. There is only so much a body can do.
Unless I give up something.
Something like knitting.
Like that is going to happen.
No comments:
Post a Comment