So…  I’m back to work.  Once again, I gave it my best shot, but retirement didn’t take.  I made it through the summer, mostly because I was half-comatized by cholesterol medicine and had a calendar filled with physical therapy appointments.  But once winter hit, I was back to feeling like my entire day was devoted to loading and unloading the dishwasher.

The first time retirement didn’t stick, I went to work at TJ Maxx.  (Refer to blog END OF BUMDUGGERY for details.)  I lasted less than a month before my body fell apart, proving it is a bad idea to begin a career involving physical activity after the age of 50.  This is how my summer calendar got loaded up with PT appointments.

I tried hobbies.  I dove into the pallet trend full force.  This resulted in a sadly crooked bench and a lot of splinters in my hands.  Then it got too cold to be in the garage and the pallet hobby became more of a pallet hoard.  Side note:  those little buggers are way harder to get apart than it looks like on YouTube.

I went to a Paint and Sip class, hoping to learn how to turn my hoard of pallet wood into art.  Alas, I learned that painting is not for me.  I just smear, as my mother likes to say.  (She likes to add that I get it from my father, not her.)  My fellow paint class attendees created beautiful winter scenes on their pallet slabs.  My painted pallet slab is as sad as my pallet bench.

I started a scrapbook.  I have completed four pages.  That was in November.

My total bad ass husband (PTST) cannot wrap his mind around my desire to work.  (He does, however, concede that being retired gives me ‘’too much time for thinking’’ because he does not enjoy coming home after a hard day working with computers to hear me talk about how we should tear down the wall between the dining room and kitchen and expand the kitchen into the dining space we never use.  Enter nine billion similar ideas here.)  His dream in life is to spend all day, every day, doing nothing.  So he cannot envision a world in which a human would chose to work when she doesn’t have to.  I liken it to my inability to understand how he can walk right past a pile of crap on the floor and not even see it, much less think about picking it up and putting it where it belongs.  But I digress…

This time, I decided to get back to my roots.  So I am working four hours a day doing admin work for a CPA.  That’s right; the woman for whom–due to my inability to add, subtract, multiply and/or divide–the phrase ‘’Rob math’’ was invented is working in an office dedicated to accounting.    Fortunately for everyone involved, I have no accounting responsibilities.  Yet.

Since I am on month two, I have already outlasted my TJ Maxx length of employment.  I’m confident this is because I spend most of my time at the new job sitting on my ever-widening ass.  I am still adjusting, which means it remains a struggle for me to show up without stains on my clothes, but so far so good.  And I’ve already spent my planned future income on a vacation.  Fingers crossed this one takes for me, unlike retirement.  Not gonna lie, though; if I hear a ”we’ve come a long way, got a long way to go” come out of my boss’s mouth, I’m outta there…


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