chapter 2
The next morning, while sipping a cup of coffee, I noticed a post on Twitter from a verified account—that of the legendary singer Bon Jovi.
He was reaching out to people, asking for the first line of a song about a new beginning.
His tweet was perfectly timed. This was no coincidence; it was indeed my destiny for my new start.
I hurried to answer him, like all his fans, without expecting a reply, just like with all my other contacts.
I knew that, from that moment on, it was my fate.
I started going back and looking at his many songs. Besides being legendary, this Bon Jovi was remarkably well-preserved. I was so shocked to see him, I couldn't explain it to you.
Since my retirement, something had taken possession of my body, my soul, my brain. It was pure madness: everything was at the thousandth power.
Everything, everything, everything! He was handsome, but he also had a phenomenal empire. I wasn't asking for that much, just the sale of one small song...
I settled down outside that day and started rereading my book of songs. I remembered exactly when and why I had written each one.
This writing exercise was not lost, not at all. It would give my writing an edge, a whole new challenge. I loved giving myself challenges and seeing them through to completion. At least, I tried to the best of my abilities. I am not an illusionist, nor a magician, and I don't perform miracles either. I go as far as possible toward the accomplishment I can reach.
I would read a few songs, then I would play in the garden. It was the dream life, right? Then, suddenly, I was struck by an attack. I couldn't breathe anymore. Retirement was suffocating me; the fresh garden air suddenly felt as heavy and confined as the recycled air of an aircraft cabin. I sat back down on my red Adirondack chair and tried to catch my breath. I listened to the birds sing and watched the trees.
A long moment passed, and I started breathing normally again.
It was a disaster. This scenario lasted for days, fortunately the weather was nice.
"I'm gardening like a little old lady." It was horrible. I love my hermite life, I would fly away and come back in my house and stay there all day without any problem but now that I was officially retired, this felt like this was no longer my choice. I had no more choice on how to live my life, I was sentence: a death sentence, exclude from society, I was force to become nothing from now on.
But I'd been doing that since 2004, and it was now 2025. Nothing had changed. "It's not because of retirement that you're gardening." Yeah, right, I picked up my pruning shears to cut the branches.
Then, I started pulling weeds. There were so many! It was as disastrous and endless as picking up the passengers trays on a Boeing 777. The task overwhelmed me.
Then I was suffocating again.
I couldn't breathe.
No, this couldn't be happening, I was going to become a woman who knits all day long!
Oh no, how awful! I didn't want that image!
And yet, my best friend in retirement loves it, she enjoys it. She almost eat wool for lunch because she enjoyed it so much. She knit and give beautiful soft wool scarfs but dont get me wrong, this way of living retirement was not for me.
I could never enjoy retirement.
I took a few puffs of my Ventolin... Yes, I had an inhaler, now. How horrible.
Then I went back to the garden. There was so much to do. The burden was crushing me. I wanted to go back on a plane with 450 passengers crammed into a cabin, crawling on the floor picking up trash. Oh no.
No.
No.
No.
I was well here, but I wasn't going to stay stuck here, in the middle of the forest, never leaving again. I wouldn't have the strength or the courage.
All these ideas were driving me crazy, and that's how my retirement days had begun. I kept asking myself:
Will I have enough money to survive the rest of my life?
Will I have the courage to live my place and travel the world like before?
All these ideas were making me crazy. The sedentary life that was forever announced for me felt as though I had just hit a cement wall at 100 miles an hour.
This is how I started my retirement for ever.
Then, one morning, on Twitter, there was something strange: a message! But never in my life did I receive private messages! It was weird.
(By the way, I had already received one from a major university professor when I was trying to understand, back when I was sick with the 'hidden sickness of2010 HIN, I had tried to reach the biggest names in the field, and that's how I got hooked on Twitter.)
In short, that morning, I poured myself another cup of coffee.
I was having a moment of joy, I had to make it last.
I had a song in mind:
The waiting is over, but the engine is still running / From the Mont-Joli tarmac to the sweetness of the days."...
I think I'm finally going to decide who this message is from.
Damn!
The cell phone started ringing. It was my good old friend in retirement who knits.
Oh no, how awful! She's going to want me to join the 2025 knitting club!
Oh no, I'm not ready to join that club right away!
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