I am retired and the only thing I recognize is that I’m always tired. Cooking, cleaning, washing, drying, feeding crabby dog, running him to the groomers, trying to grab the mouse from cranky cat, before she deposits it in the potato cupboard, tending to all of moody Clem’s wants and on and on it goes. I am wondering where the fun is hiding.
The only thing crabby dog has to worry about is that he doesn’t do his mess in the house at least where I can find it, and that he gets food and water. Cranky cat dances around all night playing tag with mice, and all Clem has to worry about is I don’t find his corn liquor and squeal to the cops about his selling that darn poison.