Retirementally Challenged

I am often asked what I do with my days in retirement and I never have a reasonable answer. I fumble my words, sounding very much like I’m entering a guilty plea.

My answer usually involves mentioning The Canine (followed swiftly by an eye-roll from my listener). But people don’t understand my dog is not just a dog. He must be exercised, entertained and fed constantly. He’s like having a toddler in the house. I love him but he is an asshole. 

I read a lot. A LOT. I probably read a book a week and I bookmark all the grammatical mistakes I see such as how many people use the word “literally” wrong. It literally drives me nuts. 

But the truth about my retirement is that we collect houses. Not in the, “Ooh! Let’s make this home” way but more in the, “Let’s buy and flip a house. Flip it dammit! Why do we still own this house?” way. So, yeah, I spend a good deal of time mending and cleaning houses. 

I spend some time every week going to Lowe’s (See above “We Collect Houses” comment). Each week I get a shopping cart with only three good wheels. Whether I buy one item or sixteen, my purchase totals $66 and I receive a receipt so large it can be used to line a drawer.

I golf when I haven’t sworn off golf. The swearing off of golf happens about once a week when I complain with conviction and abandon that golf is literally the dumbest game ever invented. Next day I’m at the driving range working on a new drill.  When I’m abstaining from the dumbest game ever invented, I like to repair and repurpose things, mostly furniture but it’s not above me to rip out floor tile or tear out bathroom cabinets (see “We Collect Houses” comment above).

Whether we are in Arizona, Oklahoma or New Mexico (See “Collection of Houses” comment above) we are likely to have guests. So we wash sheets and towels with frequency. The last guest we had in Arizona witnessed me bloody my nose with a shirt zipper which got stuck in my nose while I was removing it (the shirt, not the nose). This is typical of my behavior with our guests and yet they keep coming back so I put the blame on them. I’m not exactly the hostess with the mostest (unless you count mostest zippers in one’s nose then I win hands down).

Really, then. Two home sales and a doggie funeral would, quite literally, change my world.  

I’d have nothing left but golf. I’d have nothing left but golf?

Nah. I’ll keep my houses and my dog. If you need me I’ll be at Lowe’s. Literally. 

Postscript: My neighbor, Spicey, texted me before this post today. So a propos!