Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.

Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net
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» Monday, January 29, 2018

Countdown

Now that the time is close, the enormity of the whole situation has struck me. Does everyone, I wonder, feel like this even when they retire voluntarily? Wanting to do it, but realizing what a change it will be in your life? I've been working full time since 1977, except for spotty employment from being laid off in 1981 through 1984. And I've been making lists for this day for a while: things I will no longer have to buy (Those Damn Bananas, Kroger sandwich buns, granola bars, Reeboks...), things I can now reuse for different purposes (the hooks behind the bathroom door, the shelf in the kitchen, the table in the bedroom...), things I want to do (declutter! declutter! declutter!, learn more about photography, get back to my writing, make things easier on James at dinnertime...), and things I don't want to ever do again (get up before six, drive in the dark surrounded by a bunch of speed-mad demons, wangle with project officers...) Still...

Today I worked on my very last purchase order and tried to make sense out of all the things I need to do on Wednesday to sign out. One form is very long and very bizarre, asking me about all sorts of things like other income—apparently they have mistaken me for someone who has money. 😀

I tried to take a nap in the car, but I am out of practice because I haven't done it for months. I find I no longer can; my knees hurt too much.

And then was the little reception I wanted: not a big party, but just co-workers down in the old computer room, and a table spread with homey things, grapes and strawberries and cheese, a home-made cake along with a sheet cake, and two kinds of cookies, and friends who came along: Caran Wilbanks and John and Betty Bouler and Juanita Gibson and her daughter Jessica and my old boss Ed Schultz and last but not at all least Tamera Murphy, my co-worker for so long (I cried when I saw her), and her little granddaughter Trinity, who is adorable. I received a funny portrait—the building as seen from the rear-view mirror of a car—with signatures all around and some gifts, and came home with my car full of gold star-shaped balloons. (I left them in the foyer so they wouldn't scare the daylights out of Snowy.)

Two more days...one more trip...