Youngsters can probably move on…but I seem to find myself looking at the real possibility of retiring. I’m not quite sure how this has suddenly occurred to me but after years of it being somewhere in the hazy distance, there it is, like approaching the city limits sign after a long drive. Not that it’s inevitable right now – I have a permie job I generally don’t especially enjoy but from a cash flow perspective it’s handy I guess. But post holidays / post-lockdown my thoughts are turning to having more time, absorbing myself in things I want to do, and generally enjoying a bit of literal and mental freedom. But…but…I discover I have a stronger work ethic than I realised, and part of me is struggling with the idea of bailing out when I could be working. I wholeheartedly agree with the old trope about no gravestone ever said “I wish I’d spent more time at work”….but pushing the button is proving harder to do than I thought.
Any thoughts / experiences / stories welcome!