Saw this in morning paper. A snippet: QUOTE
A little retirement is a dangerous thing.
I hadn't planned on retiring early, but last June I had a small bout of cerebral hemorrhage. Just a little one. After a week in the trauma unit and a week of feeling feeble at home, I sneaked back to work.
I was a little shaky for a week or so, but all those hours of lying in bed had energized me to the wonderful things I could do with my job. I had such plans, so many worthy projects scribbled on legal pads while resting amid all those tubes at the hospital.
What I hadn't counted on was the perspective. Once back at my desk, facing the inane paperwork and the silly office politics, I found I had less skill in suffering fools.
So it was one more silly e-mail, yet another yawn-stifling meeting and a final bit of organizational myopia that made my decision. This just didn't seem worth it. Maybe after almost 30 years of trying, I had come to realize that I wasn't going to bring light to the eyes of the dim-sighted or rescue those determined to drown in their sea of indecision.
My original plan included a desire to continue to use my years of experience to consult and develop another line of work that had interested me for a while. I mean, after all, a man can't just sit around and enjoy his leisure, can't just wake to a slow breakfast and the paper day after day, can't just read and write whatever strikes his fancy. Can he?
Evidently, he can.
Thus it is that on an April morning -- maybe the last cool, clear day of the year -- I found myself listening to our mockingbird from our patio table. We're pretty sure it's the same guy who has been here for the past three years.
UNQUOTE
The boy needs to join this forum. He'd fit right in....
A little retirement is a dangerous thing.
I hadn't planned on retiring early, but last June I had a small bout of cerebral hemorrhage. Just a little one. After a week in the trauma unit and a week of feeling feeble at home, I sneaked back to work.
I was a little shaky for a week or so, but all those hours of lying in bed had energized me to the wonderful things I could do with my job. I had such plans, so many worthy projects scribbled on legal pads while resting amid all those tubes at the hospital.
What I hadn't counted on was the perspective. Once back at my desk, facing the inane paperwork and the silly office politics, I found I had less skill in suffering fools.
So it was one more silly e-mail, yet another yawn-stifling meeting and a final bit of organizational myopia that made my decision. This just didn't seem worth it. Maybe after almost 30 years of trying, I had come to realize that I wasn't going to bring light to the eyes of the dim-sighted or rescue those determined to drown in their sea of indecision.
My original plan included a desire to continue to use my years of experience to consult and develop another line of work that had interested me for a while. I mean, after all, a man can't just sit around and enjoy his leisure, can't just wake to a slow breakfast and the paper day after day, can't just read and write whatever strikes his fancy. Can he?
Evidently, he can.
Thus it is that on an April morning -- maybe the last cool, clear day of the year -- I found myself listening to our mockingbird from our patio table. We're pretty sure it's the same guy who has been here for the past three years.
UNQUOTE
The boy needs to join this forum. He'd fit right in....
![:-\](https://www.early-retirement.org/sk/forums/images/smilies/undecided.gif "Undecided :-\")
