Truthfully, I expected to be dead by 30, Job and lifestyle were against me making it long. What little planning I did was based on having fun. When I made it past thirty, I started looking at everything a little different. Planning for an imagined future was never my strong suit, so I just winged it.
It’s like falling off of a cliff and wondering what’s at the bottom. Do you get ready to dive into an ocean of swirling doubt or will you smash into the rocks? Is it even a fifty/fifty bet?
So now, I’m retired and trying to figure out what I’m going to do when I grow up. My life isn’t what I expected.
The New Word Wars 