Do you ever get that feeling that you're neither awake but also not properly asleep? Welcome to the day after the Easter bank holiday weekend; a weekend that started with me feeling the in-between status; moving from work to retirement.
1. Before the bank holiday weekend
The news came through on Thursday evening that one of the pension funds still hadn't responded to the request for final numbers from my financial advisor, so, at 2am, my mind decided to work overtime on all the possible scenarios. It was not a good nights' sleep.
* Shall I go back to work straight away, because this retirement malarkey is for old folk, not me?
* Getting up at 4am almost every Tuesday for 2 years wasn't that bad, was it? Sleep-walking through Wednesday (which usually included a minimum of 9 Teams meetings) was fun, right?
* Getting that Monday-morning-feeling around 6pm on a Sunday evening didn't actually spoil anything: I mean who needs 2 full days of rest and family fun?
* What if I'm bored and rudderless by June?
* What if it rains every day throughout summer and I'm stuck inside?
* Might as well be talking to people and avoid bankruptcy and destitution!
Not the best mix, but thinking about scenarios is... sorry, was part of my every day job. I'd developed skills and had experiences over the previous 20 years that meant companies paid me to make plans, assess scenarios, and ensure risk mitigations were in place. Starting from a negative point of view and working my way out of it was an essential element of that career, so it's hardly surprising my attention turned to 'what if' scenarios outside of work. Can't turn off that sort of brilliance
2. During the bank holiday
Suddenly it was Good Friday and I looked like I hadn't slept for days, but help came from a rather surprising quarter. The time? 1:46pm. The location? A hairdresser's chair in a town close to where we live. The other key person in this situation? A usually cheeky lady called Corey.
Ordinarily, we'd have a bit of banter and try to keep the laughter decibels down (Marge from number 37 is overly protective of her peace and quiet whilst having her roots done, apparently), but, for the first 15 minutes, there was no laughter. Corey noticed a change in my usual cheeky-chappy demeanour, and reacted to it:
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"What's up?" she asked. (Hardly a Sigmund Freud-inspired statement, but this is a personal blog).
"Just got a few things on my mind," I replied. (Hey, I heard you roll your eyes at the simplicity of the conversation. Bite your tongue and just keep reading: that's the last time I'll warn you).
"Like what?"
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Anyway, 20 minutes later I felt I had some clarity, significantly shorter hair, AND my wife had paid. I was happy with all 3 outcomes. We drove home (my wife and I, not Corey and I - keep up) discussing a few key questions and agreeing to some actions. An email here and a 'contact form' there, all because my conundrum was framed perfectly by Corey:
"How much do you want to retire? Enough to make some lifestyle choices, or only if your lifestyle doesn't change?" she asked, illustrating her question with the very contrasting decisions her parents made.
Clever sod.
3. And now?
We're told the answer to everything is '42', but the answer to my immediate mental conundrum wasn't '42, it was 'sod it'. I have made enquiries about some of my financial options, I've negotiated with my brain to trial retirement for 150 days, and decided to throw myself into it; albeit frugally. I even bought a paper diary and mapped out the 'month to a page' for April through June. JEEPERS, I'll be busy.
Frugality - now there's a subjective definition.
The first and immediate change is to switch from my usual carefree approach to buying things.
* Yes, those new outdoor tops do look nice, and 2-3 new ones would be a great addition to the 20 sweaters, fleeces, and mid-layers I probably already own, but do I need them?
* Wouldn't it be lovely to add HBO to the streaming services we already have, but no.
* Do we really need two cars?
The only decadent purchases so far this month are an old-style receptionist's telephone for my soon-to-be revamped home office, and two tubs of dried mealworms (if you need to ask, it's bird food for the garden feeders, and yes they'll be weaned off them over the next 3-4 weeks as berries and seeds are naturally provided in the garden, and nearby).
For now, I'm happy to embrace whatever the next 150 days brings, knowing nothing is ever certain apart from life this very instant. At least the sun is shining, there are lots of birds in the garden, the dog is racing around after its squeaky ball, and I'm feeling a little more at peace.
Well atleast the weather is amazing, so you don't have to put the fire on.
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