By Lisa Scottoline
Well, it’s that time of year again.
I mean, it’s time to meet with my accountant.
I do this every year around Christmas.
Usually, after Christmas shopping.
It would make sense to talk to the accountant before Christmas shopping, but that would be no fun.
You don’t want to have a conversation with your accountant before the holidays.
It’s like having a conversation with your dietitian.
Not that I have one, but like many women, I am one.
My four basic food groups are pasta.
Is that okay?
But nobody likes holiday presents more than I do.
I get more excited than most five-year olds.
I think a gift is a way to show people you love them and you’re grateful to them, every day of the year.
It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money.
So my accountant reminds me.
He meets with me to tell me when I can retire, given my current rate of spending.
I tell him I’m not interested in retiring, I’m interested in spending.
He says he just wants me to make an informed decision.
Where was he before I got married?
The second time.
Okay, the first, too.
The bottom line is, I’m trying to make better mistakes.
In any event, I don’t feel like retiring anytime soon. In fact, today I announced the new book coming out this summer, my first psychological thriller. I’ve never written one before, but between politics and the news, I’ve never felt so psychological.
Its entitled The Unraveling of Julia because I’m feeling vaguely unraveled.
I changed the name so you wouldn’t know it was me.
That’s the fiction part.
I love telling stories for a living. It’s totally fun and even though it’s hard work, you get to do it in your teddybear clothes, as Daughter Francesca calls them.
I write as an excuse to dress like a teddybear.
And I know retirement is a great thing and most of my friends are retired and doing a lot of fun things. They hike, bike, ski, volunteer, take classes, and play pickle ball.
I might be the only person my age who doesn’t play pickleball.
That said, I’m also a person who just got a puppy.
At my age, that took some calculating. I hope I’ll be around for the length of this dog’s life.
That means I have to live a long time.
Or the puppy dies PDQ.
You know you’re old if after you get a puppy, you have to revise your will.
But I want this puppy provided for. She’s accustomed to toys and treats.
Every girl should be.
So my puppy’s also my beneficiary.
I know it sounds silly, but it isn’t. I was a good friend of my late neighbor Harry, who passed away, leaving his very old cat Spunky. There were no provisions in his will for Spunky, so I took the cat in and he tottered around my second floor, safe from my rambunctious dogs, and basically Spunky lived the life of Riley.
I thought he had a month left to live.
Five years later, he was playing pickleball.
Anyway, I think the holidays are for life, and love.
Not accountants or dietitians or estates lawyers.
I say, Love big, and live big.
And thanks big, to all of you.
Copyright © Lisa Scottoline 2024