After a long day at work, the one hour comute there, the one hour comute home… I go tto the mailbox and hope that I’ve finally heard from publisher’s… oh lucky day!! My Social Security Statement is there sitting in a little metal mailbox, lying in wait amongst the Arby’s/Pizza over/grocery store eratta.
Does anyone else remember the shock of recieving this little tidbit of joy for the first time? It became the yearly reminder of (you guessed it) that small little factoid that I’m another year older. What supprised me the most about the arrival of the statement this time was I actually felt my pulse race ever so slightly in patient expectation of what, or how far the numbers might have gone up.
I don’t kid myself in thinking that Social Security will still be a viable option, more that I’m getting closer to an age goal. Remember when you could hardly wait until you were 18? then 21? then 25? After 25 I was so busy with the job and family that I didn’t really think about it, but now I had another age to shoot for… yes it’s a bittersweet goal and after that… well… I’ve always wanted to know how it felt to live to be 100.