YOUNG GEEZERS SAY THAT RETIREMENT IS VERY HARD WORK

                                             WHAT TO DO AND WHERE TO DO IT

Retirement is the hardest job ,I have ever undertaken. I don’t think it’s the kind of job one can quit and go somewhere else. There are so many problems with retirement that it’s impossible to list them. The worst part of retiring is you never finish  ,you never get done. There is always more to do, except  there is no way to know what it is. I’m never sure if I should be folding my socks or reading the Journal. Which ever one I choose to do, I know it’s the wrong choice. Best to choose to do nothing.

When I’m at home everywhere I look I see a potential job. We have lived in our house for thirty-five years. I have accumulated thirty-five years of stuff. What to keep what to throw out. I have trouble even throwing out magazines ,just as the magazine is about to get trashed, I see an article that I meant to read years ago, okay, I say to myself ,now where to put it, so I’ll remember to get to it.

Stuff is everywhere. Clothes that I purchased and designed in Hong Kong, clothes that I purchased in Taipai, clothes that I purchased in Brazil ,sometimes I try on these clothes, I show my wife. “My , she says, that looks so good on you, and it still fits beautifully. “Back in the closet it goes.

I’m trying to find my way through a maze of electronics. My computer hates me so does my I phone. I realize, just as G-d dislikes old people ,so do these gadgets. The worst aspect of arguing with these high tech tools is how smart they are. For sure they spell better than I do, their grammar is better than mine. My I phone even changes my wording ,very sure of itself ,that it knows a better way of saying whatever I was saying.

Now I’m trying out the newest high tech hearing aids,and of course they are useless to me ,because I’m no longer young enough to understand all of the wonderful things these two little plugs could do for me, if I fully understood their program.

I prefer being a deaf bastard than struggle with these tiny ear infiltrators . Glasses were bad enough. What’s next? What will I need next to help me compensate for my next loss of whatever.

I feel like a kept man. Dana teaches yoga at least nine times weekly and earns money. No matter what I do, I make no money.Dana is now organizing the downstairs bathroom. I’m watching some reruns of a mindless T.V show , the show has been on for at least five years and only now that’s in reruns have I begun to watch it .I’m trying to decide whether it is a very dark comedy or serious drama. I call out to Dana to stop working and join me. “I thought you were going to be working on your piece for writer’s group, “Dana says. I reply” I’m not, I’ll do it tomorrow.” “Awhile ago, you said you would be working on it tonight,which is why I’m doing this.” “Well stop doing it, stop working and join me.” “No Dana replies, someone has to get things done around here and it doesn’t look like it’s going to be you.”

 Well at least Dana has not yet referred to me as her “Bitch”.

 I can’t stay in the house looking around at all the things ,I should be doing. I can’t stay in the house trying to find all the things, I put down somewhere .I must leave the house immediately, before I decide to start something,that I know will only lead to more trouble. But where to go?  I’m volunteered out. I’m tennised out, I’ve already swum, early this morning. I know, I’ll go to the bus terminal and see if they need another driver.

Retirement is the hardest job I’ve ever undertaken!!!