Freud said, "love and work. Work and love.
That's all there is."
Well, I'm retired, and my wife is dead.
As you can imagine, that's given me some time on my hands.
My wife's been gone for three and a half years.
I miss her in every way. And retirement?
That is an ongoing, relentless effort in creativity.
At first, I admit I enjoyed the novelty of it.
Sort of felt like I was playing hooky.
I used all the miles I'd saved and traveled the globe.
The problem was, no matter where I went, as soon as I got home,
the nowhere-to-be thing hit me like a ton of bricks.
I realized the key to this whole deal was to keep moving.
Get up, get out of the house, and go somewhere.
Anywhere.
Come rain or shine, I'm at my Starbucks by 7:15.
Excuse me, mind if we join you?
- No. - Hey. How are you?
Can't explain it, but it makes me feel part of something.
These guys today, they're not numbers guys.
Don't talk figures with them.
How do I spend the rest of my days?
You name it. Golf, books, movies, pinochle.
Tried yoga, learned to cook,
bought some plants, took classes in Mandarin.
Xiang xin wo, wo shen me dou shiguo le.
Translation... "believe me, I've tried everything."
And then, of course, there are the funerals.
So many more than I could imagine.
The only traveling I do these days
is out to San Diego to visit my son and his family.
They're great. I love them to pieces.
But to be honest, I think I probably relied on them
way more than I should.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not an unhappy person.
Quite the contrary.
I just know there's a hole in my life, and I need to fill it.
Soon.
Which brings me to today when I was leaving the market
and caught your flyer out of the corner of my eye.
Hmm.
"Seniors, be an intern."
Ben, I thought that was you.
Hi.
Hey.
What'd you find?
I think