My wife thinks I am crazy because I keep looking at part time job postings on Craigslist.
"Why do you want to go back to some hellhole?" she wonders. Good question.
The simple answer is: I don't
know. The more complicated and (potentially fictitious) reason is
that I am looking to find
my place in the cosmos. One thing seems clear. I am restless with my status as "Retiree".
Being retired from the world of work is wonderful in many respects. You can
sleep as late as you want in the morning. You have time to read the print versions of 2 papers, and
have an unhurried breakfast. You can pretty much plan your day - take a walk, have lunch with friends, go
to a movie.
Theoretically, you can golf and fish and wander around to your heart's content.
You don't have some crazed boss demanding a status report, or wondering
aloud at the staff meeting why your numbers aren't better. You don't waste two
hours a day sitting in traffic. For once in your life, you finally have enough time
for those extended trips to exotic places that you always talked about.
On the other hand, there are some drawbacks. You can't just sit around reading
for hours on end and communing with nature every day, or napping like the cats.
Anything gets boring if you do it day-in day-out. Traveling can become both a
distraction and a delight, but it does not fulfill you - unless you consider
checking-off your bucket list as fulfillment.
And, there is the little matter of money.
If you are retired and rich, it makes things much easier. But if you retired, collecting social security and have less than
mega-millions in your IRA, you are forced to make some trade-offs. You cannot afford to travel all the time, and
you cannot shop for trendy clothes or afford $40 haircuts anymore.
When I was younger, I was fulfilled by spending time in the garden and
maintaining the grounds. I never thought of working in the yard as work because I enjoyed it thoroughly. Work is
what someone else makes you do.
Nowadays, I don't anticipate Spring the same
old way. The optimistic joy of gardening has gradually
given way to reality-based discouragement, the groaning of stiff knees, achy
backs and wildly unpredictable weather.
I have become pessimistic about climate and cynical about politics and
skeptical towards anyone who claims to know the truth, has a cure for
psoriasis, knows the secret to riches, wants to manage my money.
Parkinsons Law states
that work fills the time allotted to it. There is a corollary to free time. If
you only have one thing to do today, it will take all day to do it. We retirees are always complaining how busy we are.
Working people envy retired people. Buy after you have read two papers end-to end
and checked the status of the markets, and taken a brisk walk, met friends for
lunch, and so on, there is still a vague sense that something is missing. It's that old feeling that you occasionally felt on the job that you were accomplishing something bigger than just staying busy.
Some mornings on my walk, I find myself looking at young people driving by, dressed for work with a tinge of envy. I know that odds are good that they are probably on their way to some hellhole where the boss is overwrought asshole and the coworkers are
backbiting shits.
But I can't help wondering if just maybe someone is actually going to a place where the
work is interesting and rewarding and their workmates are bright and positive with
good sense of humor. To me, that would seem to be a pretty good way to spend one's
day.
