This is the first day of the rest of my retired life and just like Douglas Adams, I discovered, “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”
My blog is so tardy I gave myself a detention and for good reason, there’s been a run on words and my creativity is out of gas.
I know, I know, my plan was an entire day of total and complete relaxation as a celebratory repose after years of endless toil in the field of education.
Yes, that would be my education.
Sometimes doing nothing makes way for everything. Hiral Nagda
With absolutely no plans to foul my tedium, I’m basking in a new noncommittal lifestyle. This is intentional because, despite all the available evidence, I do have options.
Larry is thrilled as you can well imagine.
There I am, snuggled as if a beloved dog in my excessively comfortable bed, sipping Folger’s coffee brewed exclusively via the Laundry Room, browsing Facebook Marketplace for used Pelotons while Larry paces the remaining space in our conspicuously crowded room, trying to spark my interest in his lengthy todo list.
Unsuccessfully ignoring him I say, “honey, I’m on a permanent coffee break.” Mind you, he hasn’t fully accepted that I am no longer employed, and he stares at me as if I’m speaking a foreign language.
Is this a difficult concept?
I didn’t think so.
While I bask in the theoretical ability to relax, there have been strange men in the house since 7:00 am, cutting tile, installing lighting, and generally milling about banging on things. Not that I’m complaining but it’s disorienting and disruptive to my tedium.
I resist putting on a mud mask as I don’t want to scare off the workers. I do what I can.
As a backstory, you all might not remember that I cleared out the entire kitchen, family room, hall closet, and dining room BY MYSELF! If memory serves I literally begged for assistance but was met with avoidance, nonchalance, and outright dissent.
Can I just say PAYBACKS A BITCH.
Now it’s time for Larry to clean out his private office (outrageously disordered man cave) and Dante to clean out his private room (picture The Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, Turkey). The two of them had months to do this mind you but waited until THE DAY BEFORE they start refurbishing the floors to get organized and now they’re scrambling while I file my nails, reheat my coffee, and sigh noncommittally when approached, “honey my rash is acting up, I really shouldn’t exert myself.”
It’s been a little over twenty years since the floors have been done. I’d say they’re due. The only rooms in the house with carpet are the guest room and the master and of course the patio. All these spaces are now haphazardly stacked with mattresses, frames, trunks, couches, tables, lamps, bookcases, desks, bedding, closet doors, and such.
The dog is clearly perturbed, pacing endlessly, panting, and obsessively licking his paws. Larry does much the same but bites his nails instead of all the licking. The two of them are making me anxious.
Not that I’m complaining. Our vision is taking form and it’s quite exciting to say the least.
Yesterday (FYI, yesterday was about a week ago) was tough and I learned something new about myself. Nothing good, just knowledge, which might be useful in the future.
I don’t like goodbyes, especially at my age, and by the way, I’m easily influenced by the agendas of those around me. Translation; I cry, it’s not sweet little tears, it’s an ugly cry ~ loud, wet, messy. Oh, and I can’t stop, so that can be problematic.
Notre Dame hosted their annual good-bye luncheon, with endearing speeches from the principal for each retiree, accompanied by gifts, cheers, and those “I’ll probably never see you again,” hugs. It was very touching but I spent the entire time holding back a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball. A person can only take so much.
When I walked through the door, Larry didn’t even have to ask, he gallantly handed me a tissue and glass of wine!
I used to think I made things happen? That’s such a fallacy. I make things happen in a vacuum created by those around me, this is different than being a change maker, which would be excelling at not being sucked into the neurotic vortex of others.
Call it what you want, regardless, it’s not creative, it’s obliging. They’re different.
As the day unfolds my best-laid plans fail to materialize, I’m forced from my bed into the servitude of others who shall we say were dilatory in their responsibilities and now require my assistance.
I thought retirement would be a permanent coffee break but I was wrong, it’s more like brewing your own coffee as money, opportunity, and time slips right through your fingers.
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Previously Published on cheryloreglia.blog and is republished on Medium.
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