The first week of retirement was long and luxurious. The second week was the exact opposite. It flashed by so quickly that I can hardly remember the individual days. I lost a dear friend, a co-worker of the last 21 years, Billy Martin. In addition to carrying the mail he was also our union steward, and the treasurer for the local chapter of the National Association of Letter Carriers. He worked tirelessly to salve the inflamed areas where management and labor rub together. His funeral was more a celebration of his life than grieving for his death.
I started a routine of exercising with dumbbells and Dorothy and I are trying to walk a mile or more three days a week. After walking every day on the job for 21 years it would be disastrous for my health to sit down now.
There are projects I'm anxious to get started on, but it seems there just isn't enough time. I've heard other retirees say this before, and now I'm experiencing it: How did I have time to work all those years?