Retirement blues

The day I thought would never happen finally did on September 30, 2025. For the last 43 years, my salary would appear in my bank account, which would then show a pleasing uptick, providing assurance that all was well with the world. But on September 30, 2025? Nothing! The balance showed, if anything, a small fall. Retirement had finally arrived.

I actually retired on August 25, 2025, but I did receive my final salary at the end of that month. September was spent in a haze. I’ve read experiences of the newly retired, both negative and positive, and mine can best be described as a state of denial.

Sleeping late? No chance. My Shih Tzu (who has never taken a weekend off) sits up around 5 a.m., stares at me hypnotically to awaken me with the power of his mind, until he detects some sign of life. He then completes the process of waking by liberally licking my face. The only option is to take him out, play with him until he has his breakfast, and then he sleeps. Clearly, he is delighted to have me at home 24/7.

My wife? Not so much. Despite vague promises of being regular at the gym (“now that I have time”) and taking up baking, she is not entirely convinced that it is a good thing to have me at home. Seeing me either sleeping in front of the TV or doomscrolling on YouTube hasn’t changed her beliefs.

As for me, I think I’m the same, but there have been changes. Suddenly, the trip to Egypt has been placed on the backburner. I suggested to my wife that we were using too much air conditioning, and that peanut butter is cheaper and tastier than our standard brand. My birthday was celebrated as usual with a party for my colony friends in our common backyard, but I did suggest that this yearly event should next be held for my 70^th, five years down the line. My wife agreed to all this and more with equanimity, remarking that I look quite preoccupied. The monthly transfer of money for household expenses from my account to hers, routinely done by the bank over the last five years, mysteriously ran into unspecified scheduling problems. I noted that my blood pressure (BP), which was always normal, had now reached impressive heights and needed a substantial dose of Amlodipine to bring it down. I read stories of people dropping dead on their retirement day. I started regretting the lavish vacations we took to Europe and Africa in previous years.

I’m not sure what changed. We are definitely not poor; if anything, data assures me that we are in the top 10%. Though well short of being able to afford a yacht or a private jet, we have substantial savings and no debt (well, except for the promised support for my two kids through their Master’s program, for which money has been set aside). I held a government job previously from which I get a pension, which I’ve never touched and is enough by itself for an above-modest lifestyle. The second career I had in the Gulf paid about six times the last salary I earned in my government job, and about 30% was saved via Systematic Investment Plans (SIPs) over the last 15 years. All retirement calculators assure me that at a 4% withdrawal rate, I should have more than enough money to last our lifetimes, but I am now beset with a feeling that I should have saved more. So, where is the problem?

My own impression is that the monthly salary slip is addictive, and that I am suffering withdrawal symptoms. The sight of my bank account depleting steadily without hope of replenishment is depressing. The only cure for my angst would be to start a part-time job (which should be easy due to my field of specialization), or initiate a Systematic Withdrawal Plan (SWP) from my mutual fund savings. I am opting for the former and hope that this is curative. Time will tell.