6. It's starting to feel like Groundhog Day

Mrs M has flown out to see her family, so it's just me and the dog for 11 days. The overwhelming emotion I felt driving away from the airport was that of a hole in the pit of my stomach, but don't tell her that as it will only go to her head. Don't want her to have an 'excess baggage' fee on the way home.

This is the end of week 4 of my trial retirement, and the big question remains what to do longer term with all my spare time? It's not an easy decision; especially when earning enough money to pay bills, support a family, have some fun, and prepare for retirement had been my key drivers for over 40 years. Even black swan events across that timespan - the dot-com bubble bursting, the economic impact of the 9/11 attacks, the 2008 banking crisis, COVID - were unexpected distractions from that all-consuming core focus.

I still want to support my children (and now their children) and we still have bills to pay, and we definitely want to have some fun... but...  

1. Context

This coming week, there'll be an extended period of navel gazing, because:

a) I won't have access to my desktop computer for 7 days. 

My home office is getting a much-needed do-over, so EVERYTHING has to be taken out and put in the spare bedroom, meaning:
- there'll be no actual book writing done.
- there will be no blog written next week.

- I might even read some actual books.

- there will be painting and organising to do once the home office is completed.

b) Armine Aslanyan says my laptop isn't even worth turning on, let alone using. In case you were wondering, she's a wonderful business tech consultant I had the pleasure of working with last year.

c) I won't have my wife to bounce thoughts off. Yes, I could talk to the dog, but he's only interested in key words like 'walk', 'teatime' and 'where is it?'

d) I caught up with Louise Lapish. Let me explain that last statement. 

"How are you intending to fill your time? What's your new purpose, because you were always very output driven?" came the seemingly easy question from the talented Louise.

"Oh, I'm waiting to get the final pension numbers first. Then I'll decide; probably sometime around September," I replied, but she wasn't letting it go that easily.

"How are you going to assess if your plan can work if you don't have a desired plan? And, between now and September, how will you make sure you've got people in your life because work has gone, pleasure in what you do because you'll have so much more time to do things, and that all-important purpose you thrive on?"

"Erm." 

Although I'm still mulling over the question, a key factor in whether I'm forever retired is affordability. It's my sole focus at the moment because, without knowing with absolute certainty what after-tax income I'll get, I'm worried I might get giddy and plan a ridiculous retirement that we can't afford unless I work another five years! What I do know though is things definitely had to change. My health stats were poor and at risk of getting worse:

* Blood pressure was regularly around 138-148 systolic (very occasionally peaking around 165), even after 4 years' on medication (including two increases in dosage).

* The GP told me I was now scoring 46 on the HbA1c test (47+ means you're at high risk of diabetes). Yes, Remi Tobun, my legendary sweet tooth was beginning to bite back.

* I searched Amazon for a leather hole-punch, to 'extend' my belt's operating length. 

Okay, the last one isn't true, but it reflects the general situation. When you're sat on your bottom for so many hours a day, usually five days a week and usually every week for months (you get the gist), and exercise primarily consists of either lifting a cup of coffee or popping down a flight of stairs to check what snacks there are in the kitchen cupboard, it's not surprising if your health declines. It needed to change so much that I'm even letting Justine Paech keep the Aussie choccy biscuits she promised me.

It's frightening to think that if I hadn't accidentally stumbled on the fact that I didn't necessarily have to work for two more years, those symptoms might have perpetuated, or even worsened. Thankfully, I spoke to my GP and things are looking a wee bit better already, but whilst changing by medication, my diet, by going to the gym twice a week AND getting more fresh air mean things are slowly improving, focusing on those won't sustain my curious mind, and my hobby of writing is not a panacea. I need to think a little further ahead and not blame anything or anyone else.

With thanks and apologies to the TV series, 'Frasier'

2. People, pleasure, and purpose

I have no idea what will satisfy these, but I do know it won't involve:

* lots of frequent overseas travel, as Mrs M is still working and will be doing so for quite some time, I expect.

* golfing once a week with some new-found buddies, although I have to admit there is a certain appeal about being on the golf course for several hours on a sunny day (probably driven by the imagery on television, rather than the reality of the British weather or my golfing prowess).

* going to bingo, because why the hell would I?

What about education? Do I have the desire and staying power to take on a degree or even the occasional part-time course that sparks an interest? If I did, how much does it cost and how much time does it take... and to what end: passing some time that could be invested in other things?

What about working? Not 'work' work, but something part-time like volunteering a day a week at the local animal sanctuary, or running a course for the (even) older folk about how to use iPads... but then I remember how much fun that can be when my mum calls me and tells me hers is not working like it used to. WhatsApp messages suddenly fly around the extended family to let them know we're on 'tech help' alert.

I used to love fundraising challenges! They were wonderful fun for 9 years, but I had energy and drive to plan, promote, and partake in lots of great stuff, but I really can't those currently (and have already let a friend down by saying no to challenge I'd previously said yes to).

3. Maybe there's a Plan B to consider?

I have no idea what this could be, but it won't involve lots of overseas travel because Mrs M is... oh, hang on... haven't we just done that? So there's no Plan B?

4. Could there be a Plan C?

I clearly haven't got a 'Plan A', so why I've listed 'C' is beyond me. Maybe I'll just use the time Mrs M is away to forget I need to think about things, and just have some fun! 

QUESTION: If you are reading this and you've been through this journey already, what insights would you be happy to share, or if you're contemplating such a decision, what's going through your mind right now? It would be great to expand this into something of interest for a wider audience.