Retirement is the office's loss and the couch's gain. Go claim it.
Fresh today · Saturday, 6 June
New Wishes
A handful of wishes pulled from the cabinet this morning. Pick one up — copy, save it to your pinboard, or send it on.
Welcome to the club where the only meeting is happy hour, and you're always invited.
You spent decades making the company money — now spend the rest of your life confusing your grandkids with stories about fax machines.
Congrats on retiring with full benefits — including the right to nap unapologetically.
May your retirement be 80% naps, 15% snacks, and 5% pretending you're still busy.
Goodbye, colleague — your inbox is now someone else's nightmare. Enjoy.
↑ pick one up
Browse by occasion
What are we writing today?
Cabinets sorted by occasion. Open one — pages are arranged by warmth, not algorithm.
- Anniversary
- Baby
- Belated
- Best
- Birthday
- Boy
- Boyfriend
- Christian
- Christmas
- Congratulation
- Diwali
- Easter
- Eid Mubarak
- Engagement
- Farewell
- Fathers Day
- Friendship
- Funny
- Get Well
- Girl
- Girlfriend
- Good Morning
- Good Night
- Graduation
- Hanukkah
- Heart Touching
- Holiday
- Invitation
- Job
- Love
- Miss You
- Mothers Day
- New Year
- Recovery
- Retirement
- Romantic
- Thank You
- Thanksgiving
- Wedding
- Well
- Women's Day
- Sympathy
- Valentine's Day
- Halloween
- Veterans Day
More from today
Retirement starter pack: slippers, a confused dog, and a sudden interest in birds.
You've earned the right to start sentences with 'back in my day' for the next thirty years.
Congrats — your new uniform is sweatpants and an opinion no one asked for.
Your work email is forwarded to the void. May the void be kinder than HR was.
Welcome to retirement: where 'busy week' means you watered the plants twice.
May your retirement hobbies be loud, weird, and entirely unprofitable.
Congrats on finally escaping the snack-stealing colleague — though knowing you, it was you.
You're not retiring, you're rebranding — from 'employee' to 'someone with very firm opinions about lawn care.'
Wishing you a retirement so peaceful, even your phone forgets you exist.
Congrats — your new title is 'Chief Napping Officer.' Compensation: unlimited.
May your retirement be everything the company promised but never delivered — except in nap form.
Another year of you — and somehow my favorite version of you keeps arriving.
Birthday boy, official title. Unofficial title: the reason my phone battery dies.
You wore that ridiculous grin the day we met, and it still undoes me.
Wishing you cake, quiet, and the kind of day that loops back to my arms.
You count years; I count the small ways you've rewritten my ordinary.
Happy birthday to the man who steals my hoodies and gives back his heart.
Tonight the candles are yours — every wish behind them, already mine.
You laugh like nobody's watching, and I watch anyway, happily caught.