People ask me why I keep thinking about giving-up my current unstructured retired-guy lifestyle and trading away my glorious free time for a low paying, potentially boring or otherwise unsatisfying part-time job. Put in those terms, I can’t really give a logical defense for my periodic impulses to seek work. But the impulses are there.
I’m not clear whether there is just an ingrained need to be doing something measurable, or boredom with my choices. Part of it is the sense that I am standing still, and the world is going by. I’m not doing any thing that matters. No one expects me to show up and save the day. Maybe I just miss identifying myself with a group. I don’t know.
Last year, after I decided to leave the retail job I had done for a year, a friend had written to exclaim wonderment that I was still looking for the dream job. Why wasn’t I satisfied with retirement and leisure? In my reply I wrote:
“IF (big if) I ever go back to work, it will be in some admin or professional organization, part-time, earning at least $20 an hour, no weekends, no commute, no staff meetings and no status reports. If that is too much to ask, then I will just stay retired: staying-up late watching TV, sleeping till nine every morning, having a leisurely breakfast (involving chicken and pork products), reading the paper, planning the rest of the day.”
As I re-read these words, I feel at peace. The dream job did not materialize, but I am doing just fine without a job. Many times since retiring from full-time employment, I had been struck with a sense of loss. Not depression – more like a vague sense that I was missing something. I decided that I missed the structure and sociability of a formal workplace – going to an office everyday, where they expect you to show-up and do something important.
But, as time has passed, I am becoming more comfortable with the prospect of full retirement and the subtle joy of not being structured.
For example, it is 10:40am and I am dressed; I have had my weekly shower and shave. I’ve fed the cats, read the Globe, eaten a bacon toast sandwich, drank 3 cups of Starbucks Cafe Verona, and spent a half hour answering email. If it wasn’t raining, I probably would be outside, finishing my painting activities, but I am in no real hurry; I can finish next week (or the next). Later this afternoon, perhaps I will mosey on down to the cheap haircut place and get a senior cut for $11.95 plus tip. (When I was working my haircuts at the fancy salon cost $35. (I did look good, but these days looking good is an unnecessary luxury). Most of the day will be amiably frittered and puttered away. I didn’t get my morning walk because of the weather, but who knows – it might clear up.
Tomorrow, assuming a partly sunny day, I plan to go fishing with a buddy. Striped bass for dinner! (Ok, if this outing is as bad as my last day of fishing , I may have to stop at the fish market on my way home.)
Last week turned out to be pretty full too. Got my teeth cleaned, repaired a broken washer arm on the dishwasher, saw my children and grandchildren, went for walks every day, scraped and painted the east side of the house, cut down an overgrown yew that was blocking a window, spent Sunday at Little Compton, R.I. eating and drinking with friends, had a day-trip to York, Maine with my wife, did laundry, went to the dump, read a book, and so-on. Nothing remunerative or remarkable, but not so bad….
Hey, It’s stopped raining, I gotta go take a walk.