IT'S 5:45pm and I’m in my office madly trying to thwart a flooded inbox, confirm the page order of Women’s Health’s November issue, and edit a story about sporting injuries that needs to be with the art department quick sticks. I just snacked on a ridiculously fatty muffin and I need the gym! Oh, and did I mention I want to go home? Sometime tonight, please.

It’s 5:47pm and Tom’s kicking back on his comfy couch musing over the nightly news. In fact, he’s been warming that damn space for a few hours since finishing training. He’s randomly firing off emails to me (via his phone) because he can’t make up his hungry mind about dinner. Shepherd’s pie? Fish? Pfft, evening life in the Harley household sounds oh-so-sweet.

With the season drawing to its spectacular September close, one of the hottest topics of conversation in our world is: life after football.

Now, I want to get one thing clear here. I cannot, repeat, cannot confirm when Tom Harley will finally hang up his boots. It could be next year; it could be in three. But let’s just get realistic here -- when you’re a footy player who’s reached the big Three-Oh, you’d be stupid not to think about life after football, no? 

Sure, it would be a cinch if you had three premierships for Brisbane in the bank, a Darcy-style mane that was made for TV, or a surname that started with a B and ends with a Y.

So what about the rest of the 640-strong playing bunch? Tom could coach, manage hot-shot recruits, run a pub or spruik grass roots footy (in Sydney please!)… heck, he’s even got a commence degree. What to do?! And, when does he start doing? In fact, does he even know how to do? The only workplace footy players are familiar with is one where you shower with workmates and indulge in regular rubdowns. (Note to Tom: that is not normal workplace behavior.)

I have to confess, I think about Tom’s retirement daily. All we’ve known through our relationship life is footy, footy … erm … footy and a heap of plane rides in between.

Will he struggle with post-playing blues? Will he get a job in one month or three? How will the mortgage hold up? One wife of a former player ever-so-kindly informed me it was like living with a mad man for a year. Another past player reckons he went through a “footy break-up” that took him two fat years to get over. Joy!

Yes, I worry that Tom will hate his job, pine for his team and miss basking in footy’s glory. Our life and relationship will change – excitement plus, with kids and the like – but also more mundane.

However, I am silently cheering - I get my fiancé back! Plus someone to cook me shepherd’s pie for dinner when I rock home from work late.