Through all my years of work, one goal alone kept me inspired:
To be retired.
Oh, how I dreamt each week, each month, at morning, night, and noon,
Of stopping soon;
I'd fantasize about the day I'd finally quit the game,
And then it came.
I answer now to no one, and my life is mine to spend
Until the end.
From time to time I miss a few old office mates and such,
But not too much.
Am I concerned that I'm considered "unproductive" (quite)?
You're kidding, right?