I'm working on sorting out my retirement plan right now. It's not a lot of fun. These decisions seem like they're set in stone, even if they're not. Thinking this far forward into the future isn't something I've really done before. I'm not really sure that it's something I want to do. Do I really expect to be around in 43 years? There's no way I can predict what my life, or life in general is going to look like by then. I imagine it will be a heck of a lot different from today.
Yeah, I can invest a modest sum right now, and (because I would start so young) I could get to be pretty wealthy by that point of old age. But why? I don't know. I guess, like I said, I don't know what I'm going to be like by that point. Maybe I will have kids. Maybe I'll have a wife. Maybe I won't turn out to be an author, content to live alone on the meager income my creativity brings in, like I sort of want to be.
Lots of things can happen. No, it's not just lots of things that could happen. An overwhelming amount of things could shake the earth, squeeze the sky, and boil the sea.
Love could ruin my plans, I don't think I'm strong enough to avoid that if it's dropped in my lap. I could be terrible at writing. I might be terrible at writing. Maybe I'll go blind. Maybe money will be no object of the future. Maybe all of my savings will be for naught because of a complete societal shut down. Why not use all of money to engage in activities that provide immediate feedback?
Maybe there will be a ton of awesome technology in the future. Jetboots? Flying cars? Virtual reality? Artificially Intelligent robot butlers? That stuff sounds expensive, but like something I would totally want. My interest in technology, even now a days, seems to point me toward saving for some awesome stuff in the future.
At the same time though, it's just stuff. It's all just stuff. I guess at that point, why not save? The stuff of the certain futures is just as much stuff as the stuff of the present is, it's just likely to be cooler. I'd like to distance myself from the material, but really only because I'm worried about becoming attached to it, not because there's anything inherently bad about nice cars and houses with grass. And, I mean, isn't me recognizing that very aspect about myself a step away from material attachment?
Furthermore, maybe I won't have needed to save. Maybe I will become a great and famous author who makes tons of money and doesn't need a retirement plan. Alright. Just typing that made me realize this mode of thought isn't a very solid one. Getting published? With enough hard work, sure. Becoming a famous author? More than hard work would be involved.
My dad taught about decision making on Sunday. I'm glad. Making decisions is rarely a fun activity. Speaking of making decisions, I'm looking into getting a new used car. So yeah. There's that. Money sucks.
If you don't normally click on the links I include in my posts, you should think about following the first link of this post to its destination. I'm particularly proud of this connection with the words.