It recently occurred to me — more like fell on my head like a piano in a cartoon — that I might not be able to work forever. The last few months have been busy, and long gone are my workaholic days. I’d settled into a comfortable balance between profitability and time to spend my hard-earned money over the last 10 years. But it’s still hard to turn down new business, and once my regular schedule fills up with new and standing clients, I can’t bear to turn away my repeat-but-not-standing clients when they need to get in...

So my comfy schedule of three-and-a-half 10-hour days has been more like five 10s for the last several months.

I’m burning out. And I bet that’s not a surprise if you’re a regular reader.

My hands hurt, my shoulders hurt, my eyesight is not getting any crisper and clearer, and my brain is mush at the end of the day. I’m emotionally exhausted and physically drained — all I want is to sleep for a week. But NOOOOoooooo! The BF wants to ride motorcycles every weekend! Which turns out to also be physically exhausting, and not always emotionally recharging — sometimes, but not always.

And so I started thinking how nice it would be to take a vacation. And then I started thinking about retiring.

I used to think I’d be one of those people who never retire. I’d just keep filing away till one of my clients finds me cold and stiff in my chair. But lately, I’m starting to think maybe I’d better come up with a Plan B. You know, in case I go blind or crazy.

So I’m going to be 44 in April. And so far I have managed to save...(shakes piggy bank) umm, I think there’s three Susan B. Anthony dollars, a $2 bill, and six buttons in my retirement fund.

Yikes!

Nope. Looks like Plan A better work out for me. Cuz even if I take the piggy bank to Vegas and bet it all on red, I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the payout from $5 bucks and some buttons.