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Retirement Fund

March 8, 2006

I always figured I’d retire at fifty-five years old and find something or other to putter around with: a used bookstore, maybe some teaching, grow Brussels sprouts for fun and profit, male escort (though I’ll have to run that one past SWMBO) — I don’t know for sure, but something. I wouldn’t want to completely retire, but I would want to do something that’s more fun than how I currently earn a living, and not have money be the deciding factor in the deciding. However, while I do have both a pension with my company along with money I’m putting into a 410K (and getting a bit of a match), it probably won’t allow me to retire at fifty-five in the style to which I hope to become accustomed. It also doesn’t appear that my investments in the Powerball Lottery are going to pay off anytime soon either. But I’m not worried, because I have a fail-safe backup plan that will give me a massive chunk of cash come time to retire. I’ll put this cash into safe investments and live decently off the interest for my remaining years on this old rock. SWMBO is a bit skeptical of my idea, but I can’t see how it could miss. I call it the Scissors/Pens/Umbrella retirement fund.

There’s no doubt that over the years I’ve had at least a couple million bucks worth of pens and scissors taken from my desk, and spent another million or so on umbrellas that go missing from my car, all never to return. Checking with Number One Daughter, Number One Son, and SWMBO assures me that they didn’t throw them away, though they’ll admit to the remote possibility of maybe having at some time in the distant past borrowed them. They also won’t confess to the items being lost, since I’ve been assured on more than one occasion that “it’s here somewhere, I just don’t know where.” This logic of having no idea where an item might be located, yet not being lost, has escaped me for years . . . but that’s another post. For now, I just sit secure in the knowledge that though I don’t know exactly where “here” might be, the items are “here somewhere.” So when I get tired of the ‘ole rat race, I’ll just hunt “here” down, throw the entire pile up on eBay, and retire with a couple million in the bank. Anyone wanna join me in a fishin’ trip eight years from now?

From → Ramblings

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