I had originally meant to call this idle scribbling "The Diary of a Superfluous Man", but Ivan Turgenev had already beaten me to it in 1850. I never attempted to read all 1,225 pages of Tolstoy's "War and Peace" and in the end made do with this summary in the "Abridged Classics for Lazy People": "Everyone is sad. It snows." Mercifully, Turgenev's short story is just that: short. Ninety-five pages of beautiful prose - which is more than can be said about this blog.
No doubt my scribbling is totally superfluous but it helps me to explore personal ideas, make sense of my experiences, and puts a little meaning into my mundane existence. It beats playing bingo and drinking beer.
Until retirement made me a superfluous man, I had always considered myself a furtunate man as I really enjoyed my work which was always stimulating and challenging - and if it wasn't challenging enough, I would soon seek out some that was. Even after work, I would mull over problems and try to find solutions which I jot down on a notepad on my bedside table as they'd often come to me in the middle of the night.
I regret having slipped into unplanned retirement; I regret being no longer in the stimulating company of like-minded professionals; I regret feeling that vast amount of accumulated experience going to waste ...
I am consoled that "sinking into nothing, I cease to be superfluous ..."
