There were lots of things I could have done (sleep in, watch reruns with Tex, or sign up for meals at the Senior Center), but instead I began checking things off my retirement to-do list. I picked low-hanging fruit.
Some days fail to live up to expectations. Monday was all I dreamed (and more). So much so that I can hardly wait to wake up tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow, you’ll really want to read about Cord and my sushi!
For years I’ve thought about my retirement this Monday. It’s a day when no one will own my time but me. No one. Except the bunch of things on my things-to-do-so-I-don’t-bore-myself retirement list.
In some ways, retirement is like being dead. People say nice things about you, but you’re around to hear it. That makes it pretty sweet.
“The beginning of the end. Something is said to have “jumped the shark” when it has reached its peak and begun a downhill slide to mediocrity or oblivion… It supposedly refers to an episode of the TV show “Happy Days” in which Fonzie jumps over a shark on water skis, …the point at which the series had lost its touch and was beginning to grasp at straws.” – from the Urban Dictionary
I’m a long way from my end.
We, like the gray-headed ladies we are becoming played Bingo with a zing. The instructor called out “B-14”!, and if we had the number on our target (only placed out about three yards so we could still read the numbers), we had to shoot inside the appropriate square on an 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper. The youngest among us, a girl named Sarah (who is still of child-bearing age but appears to like being with us anyway), was the first to yell, “Bingo!” She’ll obviously be the one to beat.
Sometimes you’ve got to go back to go forward. – Tim Cahill
