Ralph oswick: Ten days of me-time

I'm supposed to retire in four years' time. People say I'll bebored. Not on your nelly! I've just had 10 days off work. No officeemails, no cultural interface meetings, no dressing up as LadyMargaret et al. Just 10 whole days of doing what I want for achange. My notes on the experience follow:

Prepared three proper meals a day with recommended number ofvegetable and fruit portions, made trip to London to sort outexhibition of my drawings, took walk along cliffs to Beachy Head,spent whole day at the sales (bought new coat, buttons hanging offthe old one for months. Bought new bed, old one has been lumpy sinceI forced it up the spiral staircase in my Bradford on Avon cottage.Realised this was more than 18 years ago. Procrastination or what?).

Chucked out three bags of old receipts and useless bills: anyonewho wants to steal my identity should look in my recycle bin now!Did crossword every day, used exercise bike each morning therebycuring achy knee that has made me feel old for at least 18 months.

Remortgaged house and used balance to pay income tax in advancefor once and buy gigantic plasma telly, washed beige curtains (firsttime in 11 years) and discovered they were actually white, cleanedwindows (first time ever).

Got up earlier than on work days, cut visits to pub by 60 percent (pub is next door to work), did serious holiday planning,worked out a feasible kitchen compost regime, enrolled in the MaxWall Society (you get to go to private showings of ancient andobscure variety acts captured on film, which is a bit close to work,I suppose, but we need ideas for the Bonbon cabarets).

Went to the Victoria Art Gallery (usually never have time andresort to Googling the artist and pretending I've been to theexhibition), spent a whole morning moving microwave around kitchento obtain maximum feng shui advantage. (Great success, microwave nowseems to welcome me in rather than lurking shame-faced in thecorner).

Experimented with multi-tasking by ironing all my shirts, cookinglunch, writing this column in head and listening to Woman's Hour atsame time.

Actually, one of the negative points about having time off isthat Woman's Hour seems to be on every time I tune in to Radio 4.Serialisation of that stupid hit book about men not being able toiron (see above). Apparently the author (male, snicker snicker)purchased some spray starch and then phoned the helpline to ask whatit was for.

He'd never make it into the Natural Theatre. Spray starch is whatholds the company together and no self-respecting member would everadmit to not being able to press a shirt (even if some of them onlyiron the bits that show).

Which reminds me... back to work this week. Deadlines, decisions,dressing up, faxes, fundraising, phone calls, in-boxes, out-boxes,shoe boxes, building plans, business plans, future plans.

Ah, yes, future plans. Roll on retirement I say.