As the remaining days to retirement melt away, my anticipation is building. There are 8 work days between myself and the day I walk out Boeing’s doors to the next stage in my life. I’m not counting weekends since I’m effectively already retired on Saturdays and Sundays.
I’m short. I’m a “single digit midget.” I suspect that my co-workers are finding me insufferable. I’m pretty sure I’d find myself insufferable if I were someone else. I can’t keep myself from talking about retirement at every opportunity.
I’m at the “I love you, man!” level on the Electro Euphoria Reckoner. Experience tells me this won’t last, not at this level anyway. That’s a good thing. I wouldn’t want to feel like this all the time, I’m pretty sure I’d fry my brain.
I’m wondering, will I still enjoy the weekends when it’s the weekend all week? I’m wondering, do I need to spend time in a cage to appreciate freedom? I’ll know soon.
- Poppa
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