It’s a question that I’ve heard retired people ask before. And it’s certainly one that I’m asking myself now.
I’m looking at my list of events (maybe one day I’ll successfully maintain a personal diary) and starting to stress over the schedule. Only in a minor way, but it’s that same emotion I used to feel at around 9.30am on a packed Monday morning at work when somebody senior suggested “let’s have a quick catch up at 10” and you politely agree while internally screaming “when the f*** does he expect me to do this lot?”.
I can rationale the differences in my head. For starters I tend to stay in bed until well after 8am these days. A panic in my head is “I’ve got to ring the hospital and talk to my IFA” and wondering when I’ll fit it all in. Usually by 9.45am but don’t let that stop a low level stress!
I got home from Anglesey realising I’ve got something every day through to Wednesday. Football, a day of attempting to walk, more football, oncologist, meeting a friend all filling up my next few days. My landlord suggested doing something on Thursday and I’m thinking “I don’t even know what I’m doing that day but I’m sure there’s something”.
In truth, it’s all in my head. Unless the X-Ray shows something unpleasant the oncologist appointment will be brief. The walking won’t last all day. The early kick off today will probably reduce time I spend with Chris, but as ever we will just wing the day. And that friend on Wednesday will only be some pub grub time, not an all dayer.
So in truth, while I’m keeping busy I’m nowhere near as busy as I would be working. But I do feel very busy. It’s a strange one. And Montenegro to cone in 8 days. I’d better put the washing machine on!