Work Should Not Be Such Hard Work

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I have all but officially given my notice of intent to retire from the workforce on the last day of September.  Of this year!  Like in about 42 days.  Just have to put it in writing and hand it in and try not to look too ecstatically happy in that moment.

It’s time.  I can’t remember the last time I was enthusiastic about my job, or truly happy to be doing it.  Situations don’t suddenly become horrible, but deteriorate gradually with ups and downs until the downs tip the balance and you just accept that as normal.  It’s not enough when a pay cheque is your only source of inspiration and joy.  And the job itself is slowly sucking the life out of you.

Okay, where did that come from?  Time to make my escape before I kill somebody, by the sounds of that.  Plus I’m very old.  Cranky old ladies eventually get cranky enough to call it quits.  And the world should probably thank them for that.

In anticipation of being home all day with nothing to do, I have made a start at setting up a place to create fabulous works of art.  This little section of the L-shaped living room was originally used as a dining area by the previous owners.  It’s too small for that.  The last thing it became was a place where W had his favourite chair and footstool and could read his paper and fall asleep.  I figure he can do that anywhere, so I moved him across the room.  This spot will have great natural light when I get around to opening the blinds.

Those little white drawers are chock full of unfinished projects.  I have three times as much stuff elsewhere throughout the house waiting to be assessed and organized and resurrected or chucked out.  W found my old easel in the rafters in the garage.  I picked up a few new art supplies.  I had forgotten how much I love a blank canvas.

Obviously I will need a chair, and something to protect the floor, and it will never look this clean and tidy EVER again once I get started.  I’m good at folk art and not terrible with acrylics, but I’d like to take classes in watercolor, and try encaustic painting (painting with hot wax.)  And mixed media where anything goes.  And then of course there’s writing about all the disasters later, and sharing a brilliant moment or two.  Hopefully at least two.

This week is a hard one at work because we’re down to a skeleton staff with the manager on holidays and no one to hire and our part-time people quitting and going back to school.  Inventory coming up.  And me in the middle of it all, having a difficult time giving a crap about anything.  It’s lovely to know it won’t be long before I can walk away.  And never come back.  Take a new path to a different destination.

Remember what it’s like to really love what I do and who I am.

Day Five

Think of a time when you were completely wiped, totally exhausted, bone tired, and just plain done. Not quite dead, but really close. That was supposed to be me after working five days in a row.

But here I am, still conscious, reasonably lucid and almost pleasant to be around.  Huh.  I don’t know what happened.  I expected to be passed out hours ago, comatose and in recovery mode for my two days off.   I realize normal people work five days in a row all the time, but my four working days out of seven are broken up into small spurts with frequent home days in between, so I’m just not used to rising and shining day after day after day.

But when you’re short-staffed because some people quit and other people take vacations, these situations come up and you muddle through.  In varying states of muddle-ness.

I do know I’m tired though, because there are other clues besides falling asleep mid sentence.   When I’m over tired and can’t wind down,  I find really dumb things hilariously funny.  Like this for instance…..

imageHahahaha!  Caught poetry!  Seriously I laughed way too long at this to be considered sane.

On a completely different note, our pair of mallard ducks continue to show up out of the blue every morning and evening because apparently our backyard is a fascinating place.  Or there’s a lot more spilled birdseed out there than we realized.  They are delightful to watch.  We have also had visits from a lone Blue Jay and a Jackrabbit who is all splotchy changing from white to brown.  I feel like I’m living in an enchanted forest.  Another sure sign that I’ve been working too much.

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Well, there.  That certainly explains many things about this particular little ramble.

I hope you all are having a fabulous weekend!  Mine has just begun.  With any luck I’ll be able to stay awake for some of it.  Maybe take some more miraculous wildlife-in-the-city pictures with my phone. Maybe we should build a duck blind! Maybe not.  I’ll sleep on that one.

Slow Down You Move Too Fast

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Tuesdays at work wear me out.  We have a doctor seeing patients and I’m there until 8 p.m.  Then I come home and sit at the end of the couch where there is a stupid lamp with such a thick shade that the light hardly comes through it and that’s where I stare like a zombie at my I-Pad for a couple of hours.  That little bit of light is very relaxing, and because of it I can say I’m not sitting alone in the dark.

Because I’m not.  There’s my I-Pad.  I catch up on Words With Friends and e-mails and Facebook and check out that there’s nothing new on Netflix and as a last resort play some Candy Crush.  I drink decaf coffee. I read my current e-book. I am a barrel of fun.

Wednesdays when I’m off work, I always think I’m going to get a zillion things done, because, hey, it’s a whole day, and I’m off.  So I sleep in late, mess around doing nothing for the entire morning (because seriously, I have the WHOLE DAY), do a repeat of Tuesday night with electronic time wasters, drink my smoothie, consume a lot of coffee, wonder what I should make for dinner….  Suddenly it’s evening.  There are three days of work ahead of me, laundry becomes a priority, there’s no time for those projects I’ve been putting off until my day off.  I am lazy and I like to procrastinate, and I excel at relaxing.  You’re supposed to do whatever you’re really good at, right?

Yesterday, like most Thursdays, I worked early and got off at five. There are a lot of hectic people out there running around getting things done in a huge hurry with places to go and people to see and deadlines to meet and WHY IS THAT?  Our contact lens student is one of them.  She got her glasses dispensing licence, went straight into the contact lens course, accepted the position of teaching the glasses course at the same time, is getting married, buying a new house, looking after her son from a previous relationship and her future husbands son from his previous relationship, constantly doing nice things (like baking) for other people, and now she has accepted the position of manager at another store (the store is a ridiculously busy one and she has no managerial experience) and she will start that before any of all the other stuff is finished.  She is twenty-six.  And probably insane.

Someone asked me if I didn’t remember being young and ambitious and I had to admit I’ve never been that ambitious in my entire life.  I want to tell her to slow down, don’t be so impatient, stop being so hard on yourself, get some sleep.  I’m afraid she’s going to burn out before she’s thirty.  And wonder where her life went.

And now it’s Friday and another full day looming, filled with trying to sell stuff to justify my pay cheque.  I’m tired.  And I haven’t even done anything, comparatively speaking.  But I’m not twenty-six either.  I drummed up enough energy to go and get my hair cut last night.  That was pretty exhausting, sitting there listening to another twenty something pink haired girl tell me about her social life.

Yeah.  I’m old and boring.  And ready to pack in this working for a living crap and actually get on with living and doing whatever I want.  And whatever that is, I want to do it very, very slowly.  Because now I know life rushes by while we’re busy thinking about all the things we have to do to get to a place where we can do something else.

And now I have to rush off to work so I can get that over with and then I’ll be able to come home and NOT work.  We’re all running around in circles.  Sit down and let people lap you.  It’s okay.  That’s really all I’m saying.

Out Like a Lamb

imageHere’s to the last sunny Sunday morning in March.  This one went whooshing right on by.  But that’s okay, because I love Sunday afternoons too, no matter what month it is.

Normally I don’t miss three days in a row of putting my  scatter-brained thoughts out there for all the world to see, or ignore, or whatever it is that happens to them.  But when I do,  I have my reasons.  Not saying they’re good ones, but reasons are reasons.  So, on to the profound stuff.  Or the superficial.  Or the moderately sagacious.

1.  Work.  There will be an end to gainful employment for me very soon.  Hopefully in less than six months.   This lovely thought keeps me showing up, since I am able to see an end in sight at last.  Some days that feels like a lifetime away, especially when complete strangers sit down and proceed tell me the most bizarre shit imaginable.  I’m not sure what I do to encourage this.  I don’t think I do anything.  And yet people tell me things that happened to them from years ago right up to and including the past five minutes.  Things that are really none of my business.  So I don’t feel like I should share their information.  And when I come home with my head full of life stories that I never asked to hear,  I’m both physically and mentally exhausted.

2.  I hate the word SHOULD.  Also ought, duty, must, need, and maybe even do.  Because there’s many things waiting to be done and I don’t feel like doing any of them.  I don’t care if I should. And of course that’s a lie, otherwise I wouldn’t even mention it.  GUILT.  Another stupid word.

3.  We are dog-sitting for a week.  All of our grandchildren and their moms are off for a spring break holiday to the sunny south.  I don’t envy them the long overnight flights, but getting away from our cold non-spring-like weather will be a very nice break.  Really, having a dog here as an excuse for doing nothing is pretty lame.  He’s a good little dog.

4.  My I-Pad is evil.  Well maybe that’s a little harsh.  Let’s call it an angel of darkness.  I pick it up and I cannot put it down.  It is very portable.  It plays timba drums (often relentlessly)  when it has something to tell me or show me which may or may not be important.   It reminds me to play Candy Crush and Words with Friends.  It has Netflix.

5.  There are many books on my Kindle waiting to be read.   I purchase them faster than I read them.  One day I hope to get this all evened out.  Living long enough to do so would be nice.

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If this were true I would be disgustingly healthy. Or have a severe vitamin over-dose going on.  I comfort myself with the thought that there are worse addictions and many less relaxing ways to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon than drinking coffee and watching the sixth season of Psych.  Yes, I know, I have issues.  I promise I’ll think about them seriously some other time.  When exactly that might happen depends on how long I live, and possibly on how much coffee I am able to consume.

So what are you up to on your last Sunday in March?  If it’s more exciting than my day, I can’t say I’m too surprised.

Jazzy will be back tomorrow!  There, I’ve said it.  There’s no going back now.

Coffee First

No matter what my plans (or lack thereof) are for any given day, I am basically a creature of habit.   My day starts with this lovely thought.
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And second, more coffee.  And guess what comes next?  Gargantuan coffee number three.  Well that’s how it went today, anyway.

That’s probably quite enough coffee for one day.  I’m just not my usual laid back  lazy self tonight.  Instead I think I might describe myself as zingy.  Zippy?  Zonked will come later.

I always make coffee in the morning and drink at least one over sized cup before work.  Then I get a large black coffee from McDonalds for the morning.  Then when a co-worker shows up and asks me if I’d like a coffee, I rarely say no.  That would be rude.  We don’t fool around with wimpy little cups either – these are the super sized jumbo heart palpitation  inducing servings guaranteed to make it pretty much impossible for your eyes to close.

By five o’clock today I was still wide awake and buzzed and not thinking clearly, which helps to explain why I bought a gluten-free pizza crust mix and some yeast and enough pepperoni to pave my driveway.

Yes, I made pizza!  On this no bread no wheat no gluten and not even a measly cracker food plan I made up for myself, the one thing I’ve really been missing is pizza.  W was skeptical because he fears everything gluten-less, but the crust was okay!  It was a lot like biscuit dough, but crunchy.  Really, if you put enough tomato sauce and pepperoni and melted cheese on  something it’s pretty hard for it to taste bad.  I also threw on some bits of onion and green pepper.  Because vegetables.

Do you hate it when somebody says because followed by one word?  Do you get why that’s so popular when it’s rarely a proper explanation for anything?

And while you’re answering that could you also please explain to me why I’m drinking another cup of coffee as we speak?  Don’t worry, this one is decaf.   Because GAWD.

Maybe I should have some wine to help me sleep……  There’s no gluten in wine.  But first……