to retire or not to retire

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i’ve been keeping up with the brett favre story. i feel sorry for the guy. i mean, one day you’re young and studly and a national hero–and then BAM! you’re in the checkout line being asked by some zit faced kid if you prefer paper or plastic. and now, he probably wishes he had a do-over.

tommy could have really helped out brett. if they’d met for beers before he announced his “retirement” tommy could have shed some light on what’s known as ‘life after your shit starts to stink.’

when tommy “retired” 3 years ago, he had this crazy, delusional idea that life was going to be fun and adventurous and non-stop entertainment (all of which i was going to make happen for him i’m sure). he would be able to do anything he wanted to do–sleep in, go to the gym, read, travel–you name it–the sky’s the limit. then reality set in in the form of 4 kids and a swift kick to the family jewels.

not having a career probably isn’t what tommy thought it would be. and it’s definitely been the hardest on ME. his first week post having a job to go to every day, he made his first of many mistakes. he asked me what was for lunch. i was like, “i don’t know–lean cuisine?” he didn’t seem too keen on that idea. i believe his exact words were, “i don’t like lean cuisines.” what did he expect? me to cook something for him? i beg to differ. life’s a total bitch, dude–and she looks a lot like me.

then he tried to get involved with areas of the house that he felt weren’t “functioning well” or that appeared “unorganized.” his first mission was to get me to see the error of my ways and organize the refrigerator–with labels and everything. like did you know that there’s a right and a wrong place for the a-1 sauce? me neither. i’ve never wanted to kill someone so badly. was i strong enough to hold his head under water? i didn’t think so, so i had my trainer up the weights when we did upper body. surely by christmas i could drown him.

then he began sending me emails and meeting requests. that didn’t go over well either. not only did i want him dead, but i no longer wanted him to die by drowning. that seemed too humane. now i was thinking of lighting him on fire. so i went to home depot and bought a shit load of lighter fluid and one of those big red lighters. one more false move and KABOOM!

over time, he seemed to ease into his new routine–or lack of routine. he pestered me less and found other things to do other than try and fix me and my unconventional way of doing things. i wasn’t going to have to kill him after all. it’s a good thing for him i’m so passive/aggressive.

now he’s created a new business and is working 40 hour weeks again. he even has an office outside the house. these days i rarely want him dead. but don’t get me wrong–there are still those days.

i imagine this is what brett favre is going through. the transition phase. the “well, what do i do now?” period. and now, it appears he’s freaking out because he’s realized staying at home isn’t at all what he imagined. and what he doesn’t even know is that his wife may be plotting his “accidental” death this very minute.

brett–if you’re out there, call tommy.

xo