I always get a pain in my stomach, when I read stories about how screwed we’re going to be when it gets time for retirement.
We have our own retirment plans.
1. Sell the house and move to a trailer park in a hurricane zone.
2. Start smoking filter-less cigarettes. Who wants to live to 90 anyway?
3. Perfect those recipes for cat-food casserole.
4. Make millions on Etsy, the lottery, and that prince from Nigeria.
5. Stop eating.
Apt. 11d 
Useta be you could buy Rubbermaid stock and it would go up gradually and you could sell it off in retirement. Or GM, GM seemed solid. Now, who can tell what will have any value at all fifteen years out? People who bought a nice rental apartment in Rochester are dumpster diving, and people who bought a nice rental apartment in Sunnyvale for the same money are on the Riviera. I have a suspicion that the way out of debt for most levels of government will be to debase the currency, so squirrelling it away in a mattress is not gonna do it, either. I got nuthin.
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I’m working at the university until I’m at least 68. I have a good pension plan, even though it’s moved to defined contribution from defined benefit. But with Autistic Youngest, we’ll never have enough to ensure she’s secure and that we can retire.
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When my brother-in-law and I were lifting my father-in-law out of bed and onto the toilet, and then wiping his ass because he no longer could, our #2 said, “Are we going to have to do this stuff for you when you get old?” and we said, YES. So I guess that’s sort of a plan. And when we have money to put away, we try and not put it all in one place, so that if something loses value that’s not the only thing we had. So there’s another plan.
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