My Retirement Plan
Now and then when working from home, Gareth and I like to meet up at lunchtime to have a cup of tea and listen to the radio. We quite like newsy programmes on Radio 2 or 5 Live because they can get some real nutters calling in and it’s fun to shout at them.
A while back they were talking about pension funds and retirement and how everything’s fucked so our generation will have to keep working ’til we’re 95. Then someone called in to say they really don’t care because they just wouldn’t know what to do with themselves all day if they weren’t working.
This got both of us spluttering outraged crumbs of HobNob. Wouldn’t know what to do with themselves all day? I could think of eleven thousand things to do if I wasn’t working. Me too. Pffft. Can you belieeeeeve that lack of imagination?
When I am at work I love to fantasise about my retirement. It’s a slightly more realistic indulgence on the dream scale than When I Win The Lottery. Sure, I will be old with weird ginger-grey hair and eating nowt but Tesco Value Baked Beans but there’ll be so much to be getting on with:
Reading all the books in the library. I’d start with all those classics I shoved aside in my youth for trash. I’d finally finish Anna Karenina. I’d read all the Shakespeares. Or whatever they have in the large print section.
Joining the ladies social club in the village, where they have guest speakers talking about plants or sewing or local history.
Volunteering at a school and helping the kiddies with their reading. Do they still let old ladies do that in schools?
Spending a whole week typing random nouns into Google and clicking I Feel Lucky.
Systematically working my way through my shamefully large workout DVD collection, if we still have DVD players then. I would make a workout timetable and become really buff for my age and make all the social club ladies hate me for my sprightliness.
Riding buses all day long. If bus travel is still free for over-60s by then. Just ride around and around peering out at the world, until I’d ticked off every route on this island.
Starting a blog with made-up stories about the torrid affairs of my youth and see if I could gather a cult following.
Starting a rose garden and become really obsessive about it, prowling around looking for aphids and imperfections.
Etc etc etc. What are you going to do?
