There is this terrible rumor going around that most people want to do something really stimulating, really generous or really entrepreneurial once they leave their jobs. Supposedly no one wants to retire to sit around and do nothing.

Except me, that is.

The absence of any ambition on my part is unfortunate since I will not be rich when I retire, which will probably be in a few years. I’ve worked for the City of New York all my adult life, teaching, writing grants for schools and now, heading up the city’s grants office. While I have a pension, I did not have the guts to invest in technology stocks. My two real-estate purchases went nowhere. I haven’t, so far, won the lottery or received a large chunk of money from anyone. It would probably be a good idea for me to supplement my income. But I don’t want to. I want to retire and watch “Rosie” every morning. I want to meet friends for lunch and have a glass of Chardonnay without worrying about getting drowsy and messing up a report. If I’m drowsy, I’ll go home and take a nap. In fact, I want to do a lot of napping. And I want to spend a good part of my retirement in pajamas.

It’s depressing how times have changed. When did retirees stop playing golf? When did they stop lining up at 4:45 for early-bird specials that would leave them plenty of time to catch a 6 o’clock movie and still be in bed by 9? Nowadays, retirees are starting second careers that are more stressful and more time consuming than their first careers. Then, when they’re finally through working, they move into retirement communities where they can’t really enjoy Rosie because they can’t really hear her.

Come on. After 30, 40 and 50 years of working, do retired people really want to wake up at the crack of dawn to shrieking alarm clocks on dark, winter mornings and rush off to class or to volunteer somewhere? Or are they being brainwashed by “inspiring” news reports, like the one I saw featuring a 75-year-old grandmother who became a police chief, into believing that it is not normal or healthy to want to sit around the house and do nothing beyond playing a few rubbers of bridge?

I know of only two people–married to each other, fortunately for them–who retired without first compiling stacks of want ads, course offerings, itineraries and reading lists. They don’t do volunteer work in museum gift shops. They haven’t registered for a single class in bungee jumping or Chinese architecture. All they do is take it easy. And, most importantly, neither of them feels the least bit guilty. When you ask them how retirement is going, they don’t apologize for not running a marathon or opening a gourmet shop. They don’t say it, but I’m sure that they believe they worked hard and contributed to society. Now they mainly want to go out to eat.

When I hear about people who get special permission from their bosses to work until they’re in their 90s, I’m not awed. “Watch ‘The View,’ for crying out loud!” I think. “Read a novel. Feed the birds. Have a mocha latte. Treat yourself to a matinee.”

Whenever I tell friends that I want to do nothing when I retire, they snicker as if I wandered off the set of “Seinfeld.” “That Rosie’ll start wearing thin,” they say. “You’ll be bored to tears after the first week. Get a consulting job.”

Are they kidding? Bored? That’s not possible. This boredom thing is a myth started by the folks who created elder hostels and continuing-education programs.

Right about now I’d like to make it clear that I don’t have a screw loose or a startlingly low IQ, that I’m someone of sound mind (and sound body) who likes to work, but who wants to mosey into retirement with neither a job nor a game plan. It’s possible that I will miss waking up early and fighting the crowds on the Lexington Avenue subway. Maybe I will miss work itself. If I do, I’ll get a job. Or take a course. Or volunteer my services somewhere.

But what if I don’t miss work at all? What if Rosie doesn’t wear thin? What if I enjoy twiddling my thumbs as the days pass?

Does it mean that I’m selfish or simple-minded? Does it mean that I’m clinically depressed and probably should be working closely with a psychiatric pharmacologist? I don’t think so.

It means that I’ve been working nonstop for a long time and I’m ready to sit on the couch for a while–maybe a long while–before I venture out again.