How long is 'retirement' anyway? My poor old Grandad didn't last long after his gold watch. How many times do you hear of some poor wretch who has had his nose to the grindstone since leaving school, probably aged twelve, who has then unexpectedly fallen off the perch before he's had chance to cash in his annuity? Too often is the answer to that little poser. And what do they die of? Boredom, that's what! Yes, they get their first chance of a bit of a lie in for sixty five years and it's all too much. There's a lot of stress in doing nothing you know. In the time off after my heart attack I discovered there is only so much thumb twiddling that you can do before your brain goes numb.
So I got me a plan. Those of you who have taken the trouble to look at the rest of this website will know that I am intending to write. To put that old knackered mouse to an alternative use. Will I get bored, I hope not. Will I bore you to death with all this blogging? Stands a chance. I suggest that you get a hobby so you can avoid having to read my incoherent ramblings like the plague and you never know, it may well sustain you when your time comes around to join us wrinklies in this wonderland of inactivity.
Of course assumes that I do actually retire, or not, I'll let you know - eventually!