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“You’re just not meant for sitting around and relaxing, are you?” Jerry asked.

“I’m not. I’m not, what’s the term? Self directed. I need tasks to perform, people to talk with, work to do. I thought not working would be a refreshing change but it’s not. I need a direction. I need a job”

“A job? Frank, most people dream of not having to work, of relaxing. You really haven’t given this retirement thing much of a chance.”

“Bored. I am bored. And lonely. You know those co-workers who drive you crazy? Not the ones who really piss you off, just the ones who are a little goofy? They make life interesting.

“Did I complain about working too much? You bet, but this feels like prison to me. A gilded prison where I’m free to roam but have nowhere to go and no one to go with. I can’t believe I’m saying this but my life was centered around work and now I don’t have a center.”

“Everybody retires. They find their way.”

“Sure, but my way is over a thousand miles from here. I thought change would be good but it’s not. I need to have a routine. I need a job.”

“Doing what? Same thing you did before? Doesn’t that get old, same routine, new place?”

“Nothing can be as trying as nothing. I need to look. I need to find something. If I can’t find my own purpose then I’ll have to settle for someone else’s.”

“And Jeanie? What’s she going to say?”

“We’ve discussed it and she thinks I need hobbies. Friends. She’s right, but right now I need a job.”

“Tough to find for an old guy.”

“Yeah. It is. But there’s got to be something. I just need to figure out where to look.”

“I wish you luck.”

“Thanks, Jerry. I’ll call you next week.”

“Okay. Love you, Bubba.”

“Love you too.”