I'm hoping to retire in 5 years, at 60.
Because a stipend is fairly negligble - fine to live on, which is its definition, but not really possible to save for a house out of - the church authorities have a retirement scheme: you can either part-purchase a house with them, or you can rent. I don't want to purchase any part, I've done my share of owning property and it's a burden I don't need! Plus, I don't want to tie any money I might have up for posterity: I don't mind at all if my nephews get anything when I've gone but I have no obligation to provided for them!
Anyway, I got confirmation yesterday that I would be eligible for the rental scheme. This involves either renting a property the church authorities already own, or they buy one and rent it to me. I appreciate how good a deal it is, although the rent is anything but peppercorn! Just for fun, this won't happen for 4+ years, I was looking online at bungalows in my area, just seeing what I could get at the minute that was within the approved price range.
So I went to bed quite contented: my retirement housing is in a way to being sorted; I'm contacting my financial adviser on Monday to get him to calculate where my pensions will be at 60, rather than the magic 65 they've been projected to so far; I'm doing OK with the WOE which is intended to make sure I survive into a long and healthy retirement.
I dreamt I went into hospital for tests. For what, I'm not sure, but it involved them sticking a large needle in my rear! At first they lost the results. When they found them, although they kept cheery with me, I caught them exchanging looks with each other. I made them tell me, and it turned out I had a chromosome disorder which would be fatal in the long term. Then I woke up, deflated.
That kind of sums up my personality for the last 55 years. In everything I do, I'm always afraid it'll be snatched away from me; and somehow, that I deserve the snatching. Anyone else weird like me?