It has been some time since my last post. That’s not to say I have not been doing anything worth posting about. It’s just that other things have required my time in the evenings, and the evenings are typically my best chance to write up a post about what I’ve been up to.
One of the things I have been doing is trying to work out what I want to do with myself…
WTF?! – another bleeding heart mid-life crisis post from an amateur blogger, I hear you say. Nope, I’m not feeling sorry for myself one jot. This weekend warrior is blissfully aware that I am a very lucky guy, having the family, job, friends and opportunities that have come my way. So far so good.
However, I am (not quite so blissfully) aware that I am 41 years old, likely to work my arse off until I’m 70, and, according to my pension statement, die at 85. Such precision requires some form of action!
Now, please bear with me here while I introduce a bit of basic arithmetic and swearing to the mix.
My pension provider is extremely happy for me to contribute around £300 a month. I’ve been doing that since I was 33 and will do so until 70. So that’s £300 a month for 37 years = £133,200. They estimate my pot will payout around £380 a month (not guaranteed) until I die at 85 (also not guaranteed) = £68,400.
They are projecting that they fully intend to lose, mismanage or trouser £64,000 of the money I’ve yet to give them.
Not even an apology. Just an approximate date of departure for yours truly.
Fuck that. Fuck that for a game of soldiers.
But getting a note detailing your future check out date does make you sit up and think. And I started thinking that it would be a really good idea to start doing much more of what I enjoy doing while I am fit enough to do so. And also do less of what I don’t enjoy.
As I said, I am not having a mid-life crisis. I am quite aware that squeezing more of the juicy bits out of life doesn’t have to mean jacking in the job. I am not rushing off to the woods in homemade felt trousers to live in a treehouse & barter my bramble jam for toilet roll in the village shop.
No, that’s not for me. I want to have my toilet roll AND my bramble jam!
Instead, we’re going to think of ways to build up a family adventure fund. A fund we can use while we’re all able to. A fund for big rollicking family adventures, and little micro-adventures too. And if those adventures can be done without using the car, all the better.
So I’ve decided I’m going to stop my pension contributions and divert all monies to the Renny Rambles Adventure Fund. It’s a better investment.
After all, jam today is far better than jam tomorrow (not guaranteed). Don’t you think?