Today at work I felt invisible. With no client crises, I worked on routine tasks and spent time documenting "what I do" so my teammates can pick up my assignments after June 25. I'm still pretty sure they'll be surprised to find out what I've been doing, and there will be some short-term flailing, but that won't be my concern unless they ask questions between now and when I leave.

Are people ignoring me? My walking buddy Ken says it's human nature to prepare yourself for a departure, so maybe my colleagues have no unfriendly intent and I'm not being deliberately avoided. But that's how it feels. Like high school on a bad day.

For myself, I'd rather be leaving the workplace this Friday rather than six Fridays from now. My reason for staying is the acquisition of 20 years of service so I'll have the option to collect a pension any time between July 1 and three years from now when I turn 65. It's not out of company loyalty, for sure, though it was a good place to work for many years. I wouldn't have been there since 1990 otherwise. If I knew for absolute certainty I wouldn't need a full age-65 pension, I would be gone already. But, non-risk taker that I am, I'm playing it safe - or at least it looks safe to me.

I took a sick leave day yesterday, and I'm taking a vacation day tomorrow. Art and I are already sliding into retirement mode together. We ordered cat doors, and two more Adirondack chairs, and we're looking at the emails that arrive weekly from multiple travel sites. We know our time will mostly be our own. And that is an incredible freedom. So I expect the next six weeks will be a mixed bag of delight and depression.