The “R” bomb meaning retirement, resignation. Gee, those words really sound kind of depressing, like I’m resigning myself to retiring into oblivion. But that’s not how I see it. I might retreat further into my bubble when I retire, but my bubble needs some serious attention.
I read recently that people who work from home find that their homes are messier, not cleaner, because of it. Think about it. When you work from home, you use your kitchen, your bathroom, all your rooms more, creating more messes. During the work week, I might do a load or two of laundry in-between meetings but I can’t do any real housework during my work day. I also notice my home’s grittiness and dustiness more since I’m here all the time.
My first day of retirement, I will sleep because I’ll need energy for my second day of retirement when the cleaning starts. I’ve warned my husband. Then, a week later, I’ll be spending more time writing and taking photos. I want to do more of this:
Below is a different plant, but no less fascinating.
I’m still undecided about when to spill the beans, to share that I’ll be moving on soon. I’m taking it one day at a time because there’s still a lot going on in my little corner of employment. I worry about people being angry at me or disappointed in me. It’s not that I don’t care about my co-workers or the work we do. It’s because I care that I took on more responsibility back in May.
My introverted, highly sensitive self is just tired, worn out, burned out, stressed. But that’s not what I want to say when I drop the “R” bomb. No, I must be honest. I’ve been given an ultimatum.
My husband said he’d leave me for an older woman if I don’t retire.
Meanwhile, Raji seems to be adapting to his confines. I can’t quite say his home because I really don’t want him living in the garage permanently. Even if he has his own outdoor playpen.
Raji still plays approach-avoidance games with us. If he’s hungry, he’ll come as close as he needs to get food. He’ll eat dry food from my hand if that’s his only choice. I have to be careful though. A couple of times he almost bit off a chunk of my palm. When we feed him wet food, he might tolerate his forehead being stroked. But as soon as he’s done eating, he backs away (sometimes literally) and keeps his distance.
And yet …
He’s playful. He has a favorite wand toy. The wand has a long ribbon of colorful fleece attached and Raji will leap over and under boxes and buckets to get to it. I gave him one of my husband’s old socks stuffed with catnip and he rolls around with that, rubbing it over his face. He’s also taken ownership of a purple yoga towel of mine, curling up on it with the catnip sock.
He makes direct eye contact with us, and “talks” quite a bit. He seems calm and settled for the most part. Saturday I worked out in the garage for about an hour, something I hadn’t done since we brought him in. He curled up on a fluffy cat bed and watched me.
It might be the weather–it’s gotten a bit warmer the last few days–but he’s also spending more time in the pen. So we are hopeful. Next Saturday we’ll take him to our favorite vet for a physical. I expect our progress will take several steps back after that.
To all my friends in the U.S., may you have a wonderful holiday. Don’t overindulge or you might wind up like these two (ha, ha, ha).
Marie A Bailey
Writer, blogger, knitter, cat lover, and introvert.