Retirement is looming in our future. Not mine. Thank goodness I have a job and will continue to work – at least for a while. But my dear, sweet, darling husband of 37 years is thinking of retiring. I hope we can survive it.

Dick worked on Monday. It was slow for him and there was a noticeable lack of outside people working. Tuesday and Wednesday weren’t looking much better. No one seemed to be scheduled for working and that meant that Dick couldn’t really get anything done, either. So he took the rest of the week off.

He played golf on Tuesday and Wednesday. I worked on Tuesday and Wednesday. Admittedly, I didn’t work very hard. There wasn’t much to do which makes working take forever and makes even a five hour day drag on to eternity.

The deal here is that I don’t cook on Sundays. I thought we would go out to dinner once I stopped cooking on Sunday, but instead, Dick cooks on Sunday. He does a really good job. Although we have steak cooked on the grill way more often than recipe rotation might call for. We never have steak cooked on the grill when I’m cooking, so it isn’t all bad.

But I really thought since I was working and he was playing golf, he might volunteer to cook on Tuesday or Wednesday. Okay, I thought he might volunteer both nights. But instead, I got home from work, we walked together (which was fun) and then I made dinner while he relaxed in front of the TV.

What Dick's ideal man cave would look like. I don't watch TV.

We went out to dinner on Thursday since it was Thanksgiving. And we had a really good time. The dinner was nice, the company was great, and the atmosphere was superb. So we spent lots of time together and had lots of fun. When we got home, we each retreated to our isolation. He watched TV; I computed.

Friday we spent getting some decorations for the house. We decided to get rid of the shedding, dying, nasty ferns on either side of the front door. We got two four foot high potted fir trees and will decorate them monthly around the year. We got Christmas decorations and dolled the trees up and set them out.

Dick wanted a Christmas palm tree for the lanai, and so we got that and made the house look very festive outside, where it doesn’t bother my sense of clutter and make me nervous. It was a fairly fun day. Then we retreated to our isolation – TV and computer.

Yesterday we went to my boss’s wedding. Dick played golf in the morning, the wedding was at three and we were home before six. It was a lovely ceremony and great food. It was held outdoors and I was smart enough to wear a light sweater under a jacket and then my winter cape. I was still quite cold before we left. We got home and each went … well, I’m sure you get the picture.

Today I need to go to AC Moore and get stuff for my scrapbook making. Each son gets a year in review scrapbook full of the best pictures I took all year long, along with my charming and funny commentary. They are lots of fun to look at, and I need the supplies to make them. So I need to get myself to the craft store.

I’m sure this evening, like every evening, will be spent with him in front of the TV and me in front of the computer. And this is what is scaring me.

We have been conservative in our spending all our married lives. We have not taken elaborate vacations on a yearly basis. We haven’t purchased the largest houses the banks said we could afford. We have not bought the fanciest cars on the market. We have lived not only within our means, but have managed to save a fair bit of money.

We are economically able to retire, barring catastrophic events. We should be able to live long lives and not have to resort to cat food dinners. However … there are still issues.

Dick has traveled for his job for at least the last twenty years. I’m not used to having him home every evening, let alone all day every day. The last few years he has worked out of the house, but he has still traveled extensively. We still have had lots of time apart and I’ve grown used to my alone time. I like having a day when I can decide to have cereal for dinner or hot buttered noodles is a meal.

I like playing my music loudly and dancing in the living room without someone coming through and smirking at me. HE dances like some frog in a blender, done badly. I love to dance around and it is not only fun, it is exercise.

I don’t know how much I’m getting on his nerves at the end of his six days off, but I can tell you he is getting on mine. My routines are not working out the way they do when there isn’t outside interference. Things he does to help me end up irritating me because they aren’t done the way I would have done them. I’m irritable because my pattern has been disrupted.

And that is only after six days. Retirement scares me.

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