I dunno if this is the kinda thing people even post about here, like, I feel kinda stupid even typing it out, but it's 2am and I can't sleep and my house just feels SO FUCKING BIG right now. I'm 68, yeah, 68, and I've been a CEO for like, forever, basically. My whole life has been planes, hotels, boardrooms, you know? Always moving. Always busy. My kids are grown, outta the house for years, parents passed a while back. So it's just me. And this house. It's a nice house, big suburban place, you know, what you work for your whole life. But now it just feels... empty. Like, really, really empty. I used to love coming home, even after a long trip. It was like, my sanctuary, you know? But now, I come home from... well, from not really anywhere these days, cause I'm mostly retired, just consulting now. And it's quiet. TOO quiet. The other day I walked into the living room and just stood there for a good minute, like, staring at the perfectly placed pillows on the sofa, and I actually felt this HUGE wave of just... nothing. Like, what the fuck am I even doing here? It used to be a place to crash, to recharge before the next thing. Now it's the *thing*. And it's just... this. Is this what happens? You work your ass off, build this whole life, get to the top of the ladder, and then you just... float? Like, I'm used to making decisions, big ones, driving things. And now my biggest decision is what to watch on Netflix or if I should bother making dinner for just me again. I feel like I'm supposed to be enjoying this, like, "finally, relaxation!" But it just feels like... being adrift. And I don't know what to do with myself, or this big, quiet house. It's kinda fucking me up, to be honest.