September 29, 2015

What's the best thing about being retired that happens before 6AM? Not getting up at 4:50, showering, eating breakfast, and getting in the car to drive to work before 6AM, that's what. No, this morning the alarm went off at 5:30 as always, and Julie got up to make sure those poor, young saps made it out of bed. Gus came up and scrunched into those covers with me which makes it all the more miraculous that I managed to drag my sorry ass out of bed at about 6:02, did my best not to fall down the stairs, and saw those kids out the door to catch their bus about 6:14.

And while I definitely feel a real pang of guilt at this, I know that the worst of the morning for me will be getting out the door with Jules in about a half hour for a morning walk that typically times out at about 35 active minutes on the old Fitbit. Because when we get back from that walk, she will clean up and get ready to head off the UM Hospital for her workday while I, on the other hand, will read the paper, work on that first cup of coffee for the day, and start thinking about how I might get some, if not all, of the stuff on the old TO-DO list done before lunch time.

Prominent among items on that list today is to write this journal before heading out to the bakery, then coming home to clean the bathroom and feeding Gus before taking him on his afternoon walk. Later will be taking Jack to a doctor's appointment, then coming home to get the boys started on homework, before I make dinner, at which point we start to anticipate Julie's return from work, when she will take Charlie for his bike ride, then me on my evening walk, before we have a nightcap and hit the sack.

Just as I never expected that I could live in this magnificent pile of bricks, so I never dreamed that this lifestyle would be a luxury I could afford. And who knows? Maybe it's not, maybe I should be readying myself for the fiscal storm to come, the inevitable default of public sector pension funds, including Social Security, that will leave Julie and me wholly dependent on her nursing degree to keep whatever modest roof over our heads that must replace this one. I do know one thing: I won't be getting up in the morning to drive forty punishing miles each way to and from work everyday. No sir, nosiree, that's in my past, and good riddance to it.

And I know one more thing: no matter how banal or useless such a thing may seem, almost every other day for the duration I will sit down with a typing device and attempt to capture a bit of life on the page. Whether I succeed at that will be for others to judge. For myself right now, I have to say this seems a particularly lifeless exercise but that may change, or not, as it is regarded by the other that is me removed from the writing task by time and distance. I certainly hope so. If not, there's always the day after tomorrow.