The perils of the Reverse Retirement Plan

Another day on which I proved to myself that I am essentially retired already. Struggled to get up post-Halloween, fielded a couple of messages, mostly about Vagn, and then had a meeting with our grandiloquently named Financial Advisor, who mainly looks at our financial planning and laughs. Or shakes his head. I mentioned that I had joined the Reverse Retirement Plan, which he hadn’t heard of. When I told him it meant farting around until I was 60 and then starting a career, he looked horrified. But the more I think of it, the more it makes sense. I mean, live while youth is still there to be taken advantage of.
 
Having destroyed his reason for being, I went and got my International Drivers’ Licence. The blip is of the hive of activity that is the CAA in Ottawa. Then I went for lunch with my friend Mike. Dinner of ribs (much to Ottawacker Jr.’s chagrin) and salad (to mine).