I really don’t know where to begin, nor where it will end, but I do know that I want to write again, which I haven’t really done since I left the newspaper for the second time…what I was really leaving behind was the 9 to 5, the Monday to Friday, the routine of conceptualizing creating and sending our weekly issue to press, the miles and miles I had to drive to hunt a story down, the structure of it all and the expectations that were eventually taken for granted.
Go ahead ask me why I have since then taken a 3-year and counting job as a receptionist-administrative clerk, yeah because I was tired of structure, right? Hah! Same shit, different pile.
Now it’s the pile that’s starting to get to me though. I want my retirement freedom, what’s mine by right, what we all work for, those elusive golden years.
Well I hate to burst bubbles but there ain’t no gold in dem dere hills!
Unfortunately, financial freedom is not par for the course when you get there. I mean I’m not quite there but I’ve got a toe in and I’ve damn near lost it to frostbite (not because we’re heading into a 6th month of cold and snow) because no matter how you calculate for it (retirement) there ain’t no calculating for the stupidity that is our current economy…Momma’s gotta work!
I have no clue when I originally write this but I had forgotten to publish it….
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