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Pension Paralysis: Even Thinking About Old Age Is Killing Me
Don’t worry, this isn’t an article about pension providers, finance, or investments. I know nothing about these things —
— which is why I worry about them.
I never used to. Like most people I knew when I was young, I didn’t care about a thing. We left that to the five-year-plan guys with their steady jobs and mortgages. The rest of us bummed around. Until they finally settled down, and I was the only one left.
Now I spend my days scrolling on Facebook looking at the five-year-plan guys, wishing I was them. Some of them are even planning to retire soon. Can you believe that? Retire! Already?
Worse still, the things they intend to do after retiring — paint, travel, music, write — are the things I’ve spent my whole life trying to make a career out of. Talk about hijacking someone’s dreams.
One guy I know, who spent his life in the City making money, is opening a gallery in Cornwall.
‘Oh, just like that,’ I said. ‘How about all the pain, the torture. The years trying to establish your name. The failed exhibitions. The struggle. How about that?’
‘Why would I want to do that?’ he vainly replied.
