The question I dread post-retirement is, “What do you do with yourself all day?” As if I need to provide a daily report on my extensive couch lounging and snack devouring! Seriously, after forty years of logging hours and meeting deadlines, I feel like I’ve clocked enough time to earn my honorary degree in ‘Chillin’ 101.’ Give me a break! I don’t owe anyone a detailed itinerary now; I’m entitled to bask in the glorious freedom of retirement. Sure, I might blog about my obsessions, turn my yard into a botanical paradise, or hit up a restaurant just to savor a meal leisurely—because who doesn’t love eating without a frantic countdown? Cleaning? Only if I’m in the mood, and if I get distracted, hey, that’s just a part of my new adventure! Or, I might just do absolutely nothing—reveling in the bliss of doing absolutely nothing. This time is a gift, and I plan to unwrap it however I please, without feeling the need to justify my choices to anyone, not even my plants!
I know it’s just a conversation starter, but for some absurd reason, when someone asks, “What are you doing?” I feel like I’ve been put on trial! This seemingly innocent question makes me feel like I need a PowerPoint presentation to justify my existence or prove that I’m still achieving great things, even in retirement. Hello, I’m retired! My agenda now consists of expertly napping, binge-reading mystery novels, and mastering the fine art of doing absolutely nothing. Yet, that pesky question flips a switch in my brain, and suddenly I’m sweating over how to defend my daily agenda of quality time with my couch and the occasional ice cream binge. It’s like society’s got its invisible scoreboard, and I have to keep scoring points to validate my decision to kick the daily grind to the curb. Why can’t I just “be”? Apparently, I have to present a dazzling tale of busyness and purpose, complete with charts and graphs that show my impressive hobby stats!
TomT2.0 