Decisions, part 2

While I've been agonizing over the should-I-stay-or-should-I-go decision these last 12 months, an unexpected decision presented itself shortly after my mom died at the end of February.

I was on the phone with my broker, getting some answers about tax withholding rates. It was a particularly frustrating day at work and I offhandedly mentioned, "I'd retire in a heartbeat if I thought I could." He said, "Well, let's run the numbers and see if you can."

A few days later, he called and said, "You can." To which I said, "NFW! REALLY?" I made him run the numbers again, and again, and again, using every worst-case scenario I could imagine. The answer was still positive. Then he left the firm abruptly and I died inside, assuming all the numbers he came up with were wrong.

Then a new team at the firm was assigned to my account, and we started over with the number crunching, with the same happy ending. I could retire from the job I've held these past 22 years at the end of 2017, live modestly yet comfortably until my presumed death at age 95, and still have a balance in my account to leave to my imaginary heirs.

So 139 days from today, on January 2, 2018, I will officially retire from my paying job and have five extra days a week to live and be happy. Freed from the shackles of my desk Monday through Friday, I'm most excited about being able to spread my ranch chores and projects over seven days instead of cramming them all into the weekends. But I'm equally excited about having time to do whatever I feel like doing, whenever I feel like doing it.

I'm envisioning lots more riding and picture-taking, some freelance work here and there, a garden to tend to, perhaps an Etsy shop to stock with crocheted pillows, time for more houseguests, time to clean and cook on a regular basis, time to learn to play the ukulele (I'm serious), maybe I'll even get back to regular blogging. Every clickbait retirement article I read mentions the importance of social interaction. Who says it has to be in person?

Which reminds me, I can't thank you enough for the comments you left on Monday's post. You reassured me that even though I'm alone out here, I'm the farthest thing from it. It appears many of us are 60-somethings facing similar decisions, and what a comfort it is to be in this together.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to practice being retired by taking time to watch the sun go down.