Eight More Days

The recent study says people that retire early tend to lose their mental capabilities. So Dix and I are working the Jumbo Puzzle and having arguments to keep sharp. Just trying to understand and and evaluate income tax consequences, medical savings accounts, unemployment, social security, consulting pay, if any, should keep the neurons snapping. I visited with an adviser at the social security office. She seemed too young to be advising old timers. Talked way too fast. She also talked in terms of "I can give you..." this or that check, or "I will pay you.." this amount of money, as if she would be paying me out of her own bank account. I kind of liked that, at least she seemed to be on my side of the taxpayer/government equation.

We are dogsitting Buddy the Brittany this week. He is so well-mannered I was beginning to wonder if he had any personality at all. He does not bark, beg, pull on the leash, or poop. Well, that's not entirely true. He finally pooped on a walk with Dix. And, now some playfulness is coming out.

Tom's office is dark and too neat. His last day at the office was Tuesday since some medical leave will take him through the rest of the month. Les and I wondered if he was on the verge of getting emotional, as we were. We figured he would be having a Martini when he got home and we decided we would have a drink at our respective homes too in his honor.