I retired in early May last year, and eight months into retirement the biggest surprise is the swiftness of the deflation of any motivation to be attached to the workforce in a traditional manner. I was thinking this morning of the various horrendous commutes I used to endure (is there any other kind in Southern California?) and wondered if I ever did that, as it all seems like some kind of bad dream now. This afternoon reading at my favorite cafe I heard a young man asking how long it would take to prepare his food as he had only so much time on his lunch break (
that made me look up from my book!). Seemingly a lifetime ago now, I wondered if I ever endured those types of outrageous restrictions on my time.
My intellectual stimulation comes from reading all of the non-fiction books I never had time for before, and from working on creating this fantastic next stage of my life (from scratch--so many possibilities!). What I did before--professionally, personally, materially--is of no interest to me now.
H*ll no I'm not going to consult. I had promised myself to work a few weeks this year for extra fun money. We'll see if that turns out to be a broken promise.