Mini-Muse Monday-A Precursor to Retirement

 

Over the past three years, I’ve gradually reduced my teaching days so that I can write full-time. I’ve only subbed two half days this year, and while I enjoyed emerging from my writing cave (Getting dressed and doing something with my hair and face was nice for a change!) I have come face-to-face with the undeniable reality; I’d rather write.

I have spoken to several AP English and Creative Writing classes too, which was interesting, considering I write historical romance.

My teaching license came up for renewal last August. I vacillated whether to renew for another three years. I finally opted to go with a substitute license. Oregon’s Teacher’s Standards and Practices are notoriously sluggish (4 months to process a renewal) and because this is the last time I intend to renew, I indulged in a bit of an ornery whim; I included all my research hours for the books I released in 2015, some 551+ hours.

Hey, TSPC is the one that says you get credit for publishing a book. Never mind that no one can answer my questions as to how that works. I’ve been waiting for over three years for a specific response.

But, I digress.                                 

That happens a lot.

Oh, look. Something blue.

I bring up the retirement thing because, although I don’t intend to teach at all beginning in 2016, I will never retire from writing.

The hubby just hung up his tools after being an electrician for thirty-six years. He took a month off to hunt then went to work as an electrical inspector; a life-long dream of his. Now he’s talking about becoming a chief electrical inspector and not officially retiring until he turns sixty-five.

I’ve never seen him this animated about going to work. He’s up at 4:15 every morning. The only other thing that gets him out of bed that early is hunting and fishing. I strongly suspect, he may have been a power-hungry monster who now has the authority he’s always craved.

He also gets paid holidays, a first for him, which meant he was home for Veterans Day. I ended up telling him to go away and locked my writing room door.

“I DO NOT get paid holidays,” I gently reminded him. Okay, perhaps not so gently after the tenth time. 

I have his horrid, niggling suspicious I experienced a precursor to what life will be like when he IS retired, and I’m still writing.

OMG! (Oh my garters!)

For years I’ve complained about how much time he spends hunting and fishing. Now I’m scheming of ways to get him out of the house when that moment finally arrives, and he’s officially retired.

And home. All day. Every day.

Whine.

He’s already grumbling that I spend too much time writing. He better get used to it. I don’t intend to stop. Ever.

The thing is, when you find something you really enjoy, then even when it’s hard-as-hell, you can’t wait to dive in every day. And not even a devoted spouse is going to get between me and my fictional boyfriend characters!

Do you look forward to retirement, or do you think you will always keep busy doing something?

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