I hit a major milestone recently! Huge! I was asked to draw a clock at my annual exam.

And repeat some words. Mine were banana – sunrise – chair. I can still remember them because my mental mnemonic put me in a chair eating a banana while watching the sun rise. Next to a pristinely drawn clock showing 11:10. My doctor said it was a perfect exam. I aced it!

Of course, the president often brags about all the clocks he’s drawn. Three times in the past year, I believe. I could be president someday!

Like one’s first haircut or first pap smear, the first cognitive screening is a rite of passage. I celebrated with a breakfast burrito.

At this significant juncture in my life, I’m in a conundrum. For decades, I’ve always figured I’d work until I hit 70 and then retire and start collecting social security. This plan was driven by two things. First, I expect to live into my 90s and by delaying social security to 70, I will make a lot more money, both per month and in total. A sound financial plan. Second, I’ve largely enjoyed my work and figured I would get restless if I didn’t have at least some work to do. So, 70 was the plan.

Until now. I’ve been sidelined in a way I never saw coming. The large language model has stolen my job.

I’m a contract instructional designer. This means that people come to me with a training or employee development issue. They know they want a workshop or other type of experience to help their people learn something. I take this information and design programs for them. In practice, it would usually take me a day or two to noodle on what the best approach might be for them (we consultants call that “ideating”), and then a few weeks to create the materials and instructions needed to lead the course. I’d work with clients to be sure I was meeting their expectations, and I always hoped to exceed them. Over the years, I’ve become quite good at this. I’ve even won major awards!

In less than a year, my work has mostly disappeared. Today, a client can simply type a prompt telling ChatGPT or Claude to create what they want, and within seconds, they have a curriculum design. A few more prompts and they have instructions and case studies and I’m sitting at home twiddling my thumbs. Is it high quality? Eff no, it’s mediocre pablum. But it’s practically free and people are settling for “good enough” these days as long as things are cheap (see Shein). And here I sit.

The funny thing is, though, that at this point in my life, I’m not freaking out. In fact, I’m quite calm about it. I’m seriously considering taking down my shingle and moving to the next phase…whether that’s retirement or something else. And it feels pretty good.

I was discussing this with my husband. I told him, “You know, I’m not really stressed about this at all.”

He said, “There are only two times you get stressed. When you have work, and when you don’t have work.”

True, that. It’s scary being self-employed. For decades my biggest fear was that the work would stop and I’d go broke. At the same time, each job involved deadlines and high expectations and sometimes that dance where you have to pretend you know more than you actually know. But the job has worked out well.

I asked my sister, who is retiring this year, her thoughts and she asked me a great question.

“What do you enjoy about your job?”

This was easy: being recognized for good work, the people I work with, the sense of accomplishment, the day I finally get the check. But I didn’t mention the actual work. I know I’m good at it, but the work doesn’t always thrill me. It has been a means to an end: food, shelter, retirement savings, and the occasional vacation.

I’m a saver and I’m actually ready for retirement. I know that I’m a unicorn in that respect. If I were in a position where I still needed to work, I’d probably be trying to figure out how to incorporate AI into what I do (besides using it as a tool) and creating programs that help other people understand and use it. I have been exploring that a bit with my network, but I’m not excited about that at all.

So I’m spending time right now sussing it out. What would “retirement” look like? Should I continue to pick up the occasional work as it comes in or should I make a clean break and start a different life? I have a lot of things to occupy my time in the coming years: my daughter’s comings and goings, aging parents, travel plans, singing, paddle boarding, tap dancing, and, of course, writing.

Can I really do retirement? Stay tuned!