Officially Day #1 of Retirement......

Way back in May when I retired, I couldn't decide what the first day of retirement would really be. It wasn't that Memorial Day, the Monday after my last day of school, because I would have been off work that day ANYWAY. It wasn't any of the days after that, because I would have been off (theoretically anyway) for the whole summer.

Ultimately I decided my first official day of retirement would be the day I WOULD have gone back to school if I hadn't retired. I'm sure both of you were agonizing over that with me.

I couldn't decide if I would feel a tremendous sense of freedom as the day approached, gloating (even if only in my mind) over the fact that a whole bunch of people had to go back to work and I DIDN'T. Or if I would feel nostalgic, missing my friends and wondering what I'm going to do with myself now that a huge part of my identity is finished. Kaput. Out of here.

When it was all said and done, how I felt was .....

I almost forgot. The day completely slipped up on me.

One of my former co-workers called last week to ask if I could come to school and perhaps answer the phones some this week (more on that in a moment), and I readily agreed. I pictured myself sitting at the front desk, watching the Olympics on the computer (what were they gonna do, fire me?), and asking the new principal the answer to every single question that came through the door or on the phone. I thought it was the next-to-the-next-to-the-last week before teachers came back.

I didn't have to go after all, and it's probably a good thing because I took my mother-in-law to YET ANOTHER doctor. I'll wait to talk about her ongoing medical issues in another blog post. Bless her heart, she feels terrible about my having to take her up and down the road and back and forth to doctors. She asked today if I regretted having retired. I said, "No, if I hadn't retired, I would have had to quit anyway." She just laughed.

The reason I might have had to go to school and fill in this week was due to the tragic death of the daughter of our bookkeeper/registrar/keeper-of-things-running at school. The 22-year-old was in a terrible car accident last Friday morning when we were on the way home from Wisconsin, and she just couldn't pull through. She was a sweet girl who was also a student in our program for a while. She wasn't motivated enough to be successful in a program like ours, even with her mom in the building, and I'm ashamed that I don't remember whether she dropped out or if she went back to the traditional high school.

I consider her mom one of my dear friends, and my heart breaks for her. It isn't natural for a parent to bury a child; I never understood how my mother managed to go on living after my brother died. (I realize it's not a choice, I understand all that, but I still cannot imagine how one actually goes about doing it.) The funeral home visitation is tomorrow night, and the funeral is Thursday.

I want to kick myself for thinking I have problems. Ever.

Too Tired to Think......

My mind isn't blank tonight, so I won't resort to the lame-o tactic I used earlier this week.

I am exhausted, though, and it's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay past my bedtime, so I'll fill you in on the details of my day tomorrow. I'm sure you will wait with bated breath.

Rozmo and I did the bike ride today, and it was unlike any other ride I've ever done. Not JUST because it should have taken four hours and instead took seven. Story at eleven.

Hubby, who usually cares not a whit about what I write in my blog, wants me to tell you that he shot his career round on the golf course today, an even par 72. He wants to make sure I tell you how proud he is of himself. Consider yourselves told.

Hubby and I went to a low country boil at a friend's house tonight, the woman who is the secretary at our school. I didn't really feel like going, considering I had been on an epic bike ride today and had lunch at 3:45, but I didn't want to tell her "no" yet again. She's the same one I went to the hockey game with. That has nothing to do with this story. So we went, and we had a good time. I just couldn't stay any longer because my eyelids started drooping. Besides, I was out of wine.

I promise details tomorrow. Right now I'm just beat.

#36 - Go to a Hockey Game......

Suddenly it has been a busy weekend for the 50 Things to Do list. I've knocked out 3 of them this weekend alone, and there's still tomorrow to get through!

I almost missed my chance for #36 until next fall. I let the end of hockey season slip up on me, until my buddy Angie emailed me on Thursday asking if I wanted to go to the last home hockey game of the season.

Since Hubby was out of town and I didn't have anything else to do on a Friday night (other than cleaning house - yuck), not to mention it would satisfy one of my 50 Things, I told her I would love to go.

Apparently wearing a hockey jersey to a hockey game is required, so Ang brought me one to wear. This isn't one of those that the team auctions off, nor is it one purchased in a store. She is such a devoted fan that when the original owner of the jersey, a real, live hockey player, moved back to Canada to be a policeman, he left the jersey behind, presumably in his locker or something. Someone who works at the arena called Angie and saved it for her.

There is a lot I don't understand about the game of hockey. I know the puck is supposed to go in the net, but that's about it. I also know that fighting is part of the game, expected even. There was a fight in the game last night, and some fans behind me were perplexed when the referees broke it up. Apparently that's not how it usually goes.

I told Angie I hoped I would get out of the hockey fan mode before I went to this afternoon's gymnastics meet, as it is a more genteel sport. More on that tomorrow.