Nice to see you. Thanks for popping back for Episode 2, where I start to reflect on the things people say to you when they know you're retiring.
1. "You will have time to do all the things you couldn't before."
In less than one week, I will have finished (apart from a bit of ad hoc help I'm offering throughout April if my replacement needs to ask me some questions). I'm not sure how life will feel/be going forwards, but there will be changes to several things and I've got 4 working days left to resolve it in my head:
- I'll have no structure to my day. Microsoft ruddy Outlook held an iron-like grip on my weekdays for 90% of the 45 years of working, with the other 10% focused on looking for a new contract; hoping for the chance to be shackled by another clients' Microsoft Outlook.
Do I pay for post-retirement licence for Outlook or go back to my previous favourite of pen and paper? I'll probably get a pocket diary and a desk-top year planner, unless they simply remind me of how little structure there is in my retirement.
- Guilt. As pleased as my wife is for me, it's also a new experience for her. Twice a week I'll still drop her at the train station, but after that? She'll know I'm at home most of the time, whereas she's still be working, or is it that I'll know I'm at home most of the time but she's still working? Is it my guilt that could eat away at me?
- Spoilt for choice? Okay, so I can now go to the gym twice a week and play padel at least once a fortnight, but then I also need to make sure the house is tidy and the wash basket is empty... plus there's dinner to make at least 3 times a week. I know I also promised my eldest I'd do some decorating, and of course there's writing. Spoilt for choice? Maybe I'm not going to have any free time!
- "So, if you're retiring does that mean the next book will be ready this year?" A friend and colleague asked me that last week. Don't get me wrong, I think he likes my books and is keen to see the next one, but it's mainly because in DEADLINE and HELL HATH NO FURY, there was a character named after him and he's keen to know if he returns. By the way, the next trilogy will be a little darker, so I need a new writer image. A little less 'happy Norwegian trawler captain', but not quite as dark the ghoulish version underneath it.
I'm sure Justin Robert Price will sort something fantastic, given he's designed 3 of the book covers used/coming up shortly, and he has some great photos that Mark Skeet took. I just hope the trilogy continues to show improvements in my writing for lovely folks like this lot (this is grid number 4 of 7 I've been able to populate with THE DEBT book selfies).
Is it a worry, Pete McG, that your cartoon image looks remarkably like your actual photo?
- Take a massage course. As I type this, my wife popped into my study; her back and one of her shoulder blades are aching. She was sat on a bench in the kitchen a couple of days this week, working, because her study/home office is getting a major overhaul - no pun intended. I'm okay at easing some of her aches and pains, but maybe it's not a bad idea? I do have an irrational fear though that they'll make me practice on fat, sweaty men with body odour, as it's unlikely that Eiza Gonzalez regularly volunteers as a massage client at the Grimethorpe Working Men's Club's NVQ evening class.
2. "Look after yourself. You don't want to retire after all these years and then drop dead."
In the classic comedy series, Fawlty Towers, the 12th and final ever episode was called 'Basil the Rat', and there's a moment where Basil turns to his wife and says, "Can't we get you on Mastermind, Sybil? Next contestant; Mrs Sybil Fawlty from Torquay. Specialist subject - the bleeding obvious."
That quote sums up the silent thought behind my fake smile when someone pretty-much said what the title quote is, last month. I do intend to ease myself back into better shape, albeit I've never been someone who goes to the gym simply because it's good for you. I always needed a fundraising challenge as my end goal, my reason for training, thus my transformation from a 40-year old blob who struggled to get to the dessert counter at Pizza Hut, into a 50-year-old finely-honed athlete that made it to the North Pole (among other things). Sadly, the 50-year-old has turned into a bit of a 60-year-old blob, but I'll get there.
3. "You've got loads of money, You'll be fine."
Retirement means a fixed income. Yes, there will be a couple of tax-free lump sums to make my wife and I feel the world is temporarily our oyster. It will soon become the 'security stash', just in case the dishwasher breaks down or someone in the family needs an emergency loan.
Oh, what a first-world-problem!
It's an income and it's certainly enough to be okay (even with a mortgage still to pay). It's not as if we'll need food stamps or a ration book, and sure; popping into Waterstones or Darling Reads to browse will become a birthday joy rather than an ad hoc 'why the hell not', but we are so very lucky to have had the opportunity to work hard and earn a living wage. It's more than some people have had the chance to do.
Maybe I need to stop worrying about how our future life and find something to focus on. Something that still needs my brain, but doesn't guzzle money. There was one idea I've had for years (great logo design work from Howard Rushfirth by the way, as always). I wonder if there's any mileage in it still? Hmm, something for me to mull over, now I have time to do so.
Right, that's it for this blog entry. This is my final weekend where there's a Monday feeling to come. If you need me once we hit April, you'll hopefully find me in a corner of my study (see below for a cartoon interpretation of a photo of it); reading and researching for one of my upcoming books or reading one of the twenty books I've bought; telling Mrs M I'm saving them for retirement. Or maybe I'll be plotting Project Footprint (or dreaming about it - it is a very comfy chair).
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