My rational brain is all, "Compound interest; right on," but my lizard brain wants to lie, Smaug-like, on top of a pile containing all of our money and hiss at anyone who wants to move any of it anywhere other than under my butt.
Totally rational! Now I kind of want to buy a rambling Victorian and stuff it full of aging, eccentric Buffistas.
...are you planning to lie, Smaug-like, on top of a pile of aging Buffistas?
Of course, retirement age is a whole other kettle of fish. I don't see it happening for a long, long while. I'm literally banking on both of us being able to work for at least another ten years. Minimum. God willing and the creek don't rise.
I'm only 53 (well, I will be next month), and while I know people retire in their 50s, I genuinely can't imagine not working. The structure of a job is good for me. I assume the closer I get to actual retirement age, I'll be more on board with not working, but I expect to work until I'm at least 62, and most likely 65. Tim has talked about retiring early because of his RA, but even for him, "retiring early" might mean 60 instead of 62 or 65, since he turns 58 this year.
are you planning to lie, Smaug-like, on top of a pile of aging Buffistas?
Only if everyone committed to being soft and squishy.
are you planning to lie, Smaug-like, on top of a pile of aging Buffistas?
Only if everyone committed to being soft and squishy.
Baby, I got this.
I managed not to listen to my husband's conversation with his parents about protests at college campuses, which is good, because now I don't have to wonder if his parents have ever given a shit about antisemitism before FOX started yelling.
Only if everyone committed to being soft and squishy.
I've been training my whole life for this!
Only if everyone committed to being soft and squishy.
That is so not a problem for me.
genuinely can't imagine not working. The structure of a job is good for me.
I said very similar words to my husband over an early dinner at our pub-like place just now as I was recounting the retirement convo from the board. Like, I'm on a staycation this week, and I decided to play it be ear... not my best decision. I, too, benefit from structure. Thank goodness Shir is coming this weekend to shake me out of my sloth. For a visitor, I can plan and do! Just me? Eh.
My mom was a teacher, and she retired at, maybe 70, but really only because she just got fed up with students being ill-mannered and the administration being, well, an administration. Mentally and physically, she could have done 75 easy. And would have. I am hoping for the same, honestly.
A few of my friends are retiring early-ish. I'm surprisingly not feeling envious. Like, bully for them, and let.me.live vicariously through you and occasionally join you in your travels! Except.my camping friends. I will not join them. But I will happily ooh and ahh over their pictures.
Oh, and, yeah, soft and squishy is my jam, fear not.
Oh, and, yeah, soft and squishy is my jam, fear not.
Aging Buffistas: committed to the soft and squishy lifestyle. (Although on that note, I'm off to lift weights. Any muscle I build just lurks beneath the softness and squishyness.)
