Of course getting even half of hubby's benefits "early" will be nice but like every other rite-of-passage I've experienced since turning 60, it's strangely melancholy. I am, indeed, getting old.
A joyful cruise is on the near horizon and I packed a pair of white denim shorts. I am still debating about them - didn't I just read that I am too old for shorter shorts? I tried to find a longer pair with a more forgiving stretchy waistband yesterday but no luck. So the old pair remains in the suitcase.
Maj Jong. A planned retirement community. A pension. Lazy days filled with medical appointments and activities with other seniors. And now, Social Security checks.
Doesn't sound that bad, does it? I can cope!
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