On the surface, I have 57 total work days, or 11 weeks, until my retirement date. I don't work Mondays, so do the subtraction and we have 46 days. Now let's figure in the new twist. They want to throw me a retirement party on Sunday, May 22.
You know that after the party, I will not go back into the office.
So do the subtraction and we have 39 days, less one Friday when a friend is coming into town for one day and I'm spending it with her. So we're left with 38 working days.
Thirty-eight working days.
Thirty-eight days I'm not looking forward to.
Thirty-eight bittersweet days.
I'm excited and sad, contented and regretful, all at the same time. For such a long time, I thought all I'd feel is relief. There is some of that - I'm sure I'll be relieved when I walk out of that party. And my conscience will be clear. I've done the very best I know how to do.
But maybe the most surprising thing is how worried I am about spending 24/7 with the Man of the Manor. Yes, me and the spousal unit have some different ideas on what MY retirement should look like. I'm sure it will work out. If he annoys me, I can call Deuce and take off for the woods where the man can't follow us. That may seem like a cold thing to do to a disabled person, but it's not if he drives me to it.
I'm a fan of making lists. I may not follow them with strict adherence, but a list is part of my thinking process. It's putting my thoughts and ideas down so I don't forget them. There is value in that. Does it matter that items on Monday's list don't happen until Thursday? Probably not. The Monday critical items will likely be done first and what falls to the wayside are just notions. I can deal with that.
So I think I'm off to make a list of ideas for the Summer of '22. Maybe I'll jot down a few things and then engage the spousal unit and see if he has any different ones. We can then "discuss" them. It should make for an interesting afternoon.
The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)
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