The Long Leg, Edward Hopper, 1930

Last week, I announced my retirement. What?!? You might say. As I all too frequently do, I buried my lead at the end of a silly and somewhat disjointed post. So, don’t feel too bad if you missed it. Only Jane seemed to pick up on it. I picked July as my retirement month, both because it is neither too soon nor too far away. It is also my birth month and at this point in life every birthday accrues additional retirement benefits. I am also angling for a layoff, because my severance package would be pretty lucrative. However, that boat may have already sailed. Such fishing for a pink slip requires some flexibility, so my planned July exit date could be subject to a better offer. Anyway, I plan on leaving the proletariat this summer, with my birthday as the target date.

Other than last week’s announcement, I haven’t said anything more on this subject, at least online, but I have been talking at work. The first person I told was my boss, whose only comment was, “I’m not surprised.” I’m really going to miss that guy. After that rather reticent conversation, I have been busy slow-rolling out the news. Initially, I did this to help backstop my decision. I figured that letting other people know would make exercising any change of heart that much more difficult, but now any cold feet have all but disappeared and body and soul, I have crossed the Rubicon and I am ready to leave.

When I tell people at work, I am usually met with disbelief, as in, “You’re kidding, right?” After the realization that I’m not, I am next presented with the statement, “You’re not old enough to retire.” I have a stock answer for that and explain that they’re just being fooled by my immaturity. Then they invariably ask the dreaded question, “What are you going to do when you retire?” At this point, I should come clean and say, “I don’t know.” I’m afraid to tell the truth though, for fear of them saying that I can’t retire until I’ve come up with a suitable plan. So, I usually fallback on another stock answer and say something like, “Travel, more bicycling, you know, enjoy life.” They’re usually placated with this, but I should come clean, because I don’t really have a plan. On the other hand, I’ve worked over 38 years without much of a plan, so why should I formulate one now? Let’s just say that I’m completing a long leg of my journey through life and I’m now ready to tack and begin the next leg.