Sunday, August 21, 2005


As I reach the age when I should be slowing down at work, or at least, thinking of slowing down and doing less for work and more for Mitzi, work is getting more and more stressful.

At 58 my body and my brain are different than they were at 38. But I seem to have more responsibility – for myself and sometimes for others. Is that right? Is that they way it’s supposed to be?

I can no longer do physical work for several hours a day without paying for it for several days afterwards. I can no longer multitask without losing my concentration. Oh, I don’t fear the Big A (Alzheimer’s – but it would be nice to live in my own little world) – it’s not confusion – I just need to focus on one thing at a time, finish it to the end and do not try to talk around me, over me and through me while I’m trying to do it. I will lose it.

Retire?Uh – like . . .CAN’T.
I’m alone. I’m a notch baby – Social Security (if it’s viable) won’t kick in until I’m 67. And even if I did have enough to live on to retire and live my dream (writing fulltime), I wouldn’t have enough to pay for health insurance.

Get a less stressful job with benefits?

Uh – like . . .CAN’T.
I’m trying to save for my dotage and that savings would go quickly if I had any job less than 35K a year (still a big cut in pay from what I’m earning now). I’ve also been know to assist family members financially – yes, I would have to stop that.

So I can have my sanity now and no money for my old age.
Or I can work my ass off now and have money and health insurance through Medicare (if it’s there) later in my old age.

Hmmm? An old age that may never come given my history of two bouts of cancer and one bout of congestive heart failure.

What to do. What to do.

Muddle on.


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