Right Day, On Time and at the Right Place: A Rare Trio
Well, what can I say? When I wasn't paying attention, I seemed to have turned into a responsible adult. That's the thought running through my mind as I signed the consent form for my grandkids' school, allowing them to contact me with any issues during the school day. I'm second on the list after my much more sensible wife, Suzie, so I'm moving up in the world!
Getting elevated to the contact form is a direct result of retirement. Before, I was considered a bit of a dodgy inclusion due to the unpredictable nature of my whereabouts on any given day. Not ideal for a dependable emergency response during a school crisis.
This being retired business seems to have introduced other out of character behaviours into my daily repertoire. Maybe at long last I'm being moulded into a man of maturity and thoughtful actions. My wife certainly has her fingers crossed…I think I get on Suzie's last nerve on occasion.
Take my past efforts to get to appointments and social engagements on time, I've been known to arrive a week early or if I got the day correct I'd normally be 30 minutes late or turn up at the wrong venue. Friends would always pass comments if I happened to successfully get the day, time and place spot on…it was considered a noteworthy cause for celebration.
Busyness was the bane of my life. After rushing to an important meeting with my bankers, my return journey to the car was delayed for an hour looking for my car keys, only to discover I had left them in the ignition with the engine still running. It took me a few days to admit this slight disaster to Suzie, but her only response was a slight sigh and a shake of the head.
Nowadays, thanks to the newfound freedom of time gifted to me by quitting the rat race, I've found myself turning up early for all manner of events. It's such a revelation. I even got kicked in the ankle by Suzie for rolling my eyes when friends were late for a restaurant meal. My memory can be conveniently hazy when required.
My redemption continues apace. Last July, pre-retirement, I organized a flight to Manchester plus a car hire for transport to the hotel I'd booked to meet up with some friends. Somehow, I managed to turn up at the wrong airport and, due to no availability on flights, I never got there. Suzie suggested it was possibly a lot of money to spend going nowhere. This year, I organized a trip to London and not only was I early, I even got the correct airport.
Where does this yarn leave us? I'm guessing my slightly chaotic work life would have frustrated and exasperated the average Humble Dollar reader, but it seems retirement can even teach an old dog new tricks. The gift of time has been the catalyst for this metamorphosis.
My only worry now is what stories the grandkids will tell about me. The old me provided legendary material—”Remember when Pops went to the wrong city?” Now what will they have? “'Remember when Pops arrived five minutes early?” That's not passing down family folklore, that's just depressing. I may need to stage something memorable. Accidentally attending someone else's wedding, perhaps. Just to keep the legacy interesting. But I've already done that once before, that really was legendary!
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