Marrying George Clooney

i’m trying to embrace this whole retirement thing.
i am.
i keep making believe that ken is on vacation.
a long vacation.
i keep making believe that he needs some R & R.
a lot of R & R.
i keep making believe that we’re on a reality show, and we’re being followed by cameras, so i try try to be on my best behavior.
this is not working.
i shooed and pushed the imaginary cameras away yesterday because i needed to tell ken that i did not appreciate the fact that when he in fact asks me my opinion and i ramble on and on with a blow by blow that his eyes glaze over and i can tell that he really didn’t want my opinion. that bothered me. so i shooed the imaginary and make believe reality show people out of my house. go away i said. go away.

yesterday we had a conversation (which should have been imaginary) about how maybe we should think about traveling around the country, you know, in an RV, or a maybe a sports car. truthfully, honestly…i can envision that as easily as i can envision myself in a teeny itsy bitsy bikini laying on a beach in say st. barts surrounded by girls in the early 20’s with perfectly toned bodies splashing each other and saying shit like: THIS IS SOooooooo MUCH FUN.

i really don’t know how people do this whole retirement thing.