I stopped by the beach club this afternoon and there was this guy doing electrical work around the pool.
So, having nothing else to do, I hung around and watched him work for a few minutes.
I don’t think I’ve in totality spent more than 15 minutes at the club but — given the beach club is right on a beautiful beach — I asked him if anybody ever used the pool.
He said they will be starting this weekend. I replied, “Oh … What’s this weekend?”
He looked at me with a crooked head and said, “It’s Memorial Day weekend.”
And I said to myself, “Oh yeah. It’s May. I know because my birthday was last week.”
Trying to get my bearings, I next asked him, “What day of the week is it?”
By then, I could tell he thought I was either pulling his leg or nuts.
But I’m not nuts. The truth is I really have to concentrate to tell what year it is.
When you are retired — no working — and behind the gates where the outside world never enters — it’s hard to keep track of things. There’s no real schedule. All you have to do is keep track of your tee times and tennis times.
And you don’t even have to do that because this reminder thing on your phone tells you when to start getting ready for your tee times.
I don’t know about this retirement stuff.
