My last week at work

Since I made the decision just a few short weeks ago, the time has come round so quickly.  This is now my last week at work and it's really messing with my head.  You see, I think of retirees as, well - old.  That's not fair of course, as many retirees have done it early, and have gone on to forge new skills and interests, and made a life radically different from the one they had before, taking it easy and doing things their own way.

In a way, I'm taking early retirement - by just a year.  And I don't feel old in my head.  My body argues with me most of the time, insisting that I'm decrepit and doddery, then my head argues back and the two of them start a fight!!  How I love being caught up in the middle - it gives me licence to swear and curse like a fishwife.  It's all directed at my stiffening joints, my unco-operative foot and my argumentative hip.  I turn into Agnes Brown (you know Mrs Brown's Boys?) calling everything a "fecking bastard!"  Not that I'm anything like that Irish Mammy.  Well, not a lot.  Maybe a bit. Oh go on then....I admit it, I am.

So, my plans for the summer?  Well, first of all I have to get my foot injected with cortisone next week.   If they manage to hit the correct joint (please God they do!) then I will be pain free and my walking should even out.  This will also be the measure of  success that will guide them to doing the operation to fuse that affected joint (it's the tiniest little thing deep inside my foot).  Once I can walk better on that foot, then my hip will be less sore because of the stress its currently under.  Perhaps this could be the beginning of the end of my waddling days.  Hey, look well if I can wear normal shoes again......I'll be going shopping for some fantabulous, sexy and delicious shoegasm heels!

Fellow blogger Dorne Whale blogged yesterday asking Are You Young at Heart?  .  She read in The Observer (they have posh papers over at Whale Towers) about how scientists are of the opinion that our creativity and subsequent achievements are not hindered by the onset of old age.  Well, too bloody right! She went on to say that Clint Eastwood has just directed his first musical, The Jersey Boys at the age of 84. That's a great move on two counts as far as I'm concerned....

a) the guy's still got it - in every way (ahem!)
b) I grew up with The Four Seasons music and still enjoy it to this day



Do pop over and see Dorne and read her whole post.  For those of us who are of a 'certain age' everything will ring true.  She'll also make you laugh, make you think (she inspired the format for my post today) and bless her she's a fellow foul mouth so that's an endearing quality if ever there was one.

The prime comment for me in Dorne's post was the question about how many of us are becoming increasingly aware of the clock ticking away at the side of us.  It seems like one minute I was still at school, the next thing I remember was having two babies and an absent husband, a sick mum and an old wreck of a car.  At some point after that I had a flying career, now suddenly I'm plunging headlong into retirement. What's wrong with time?  Did it feck off down a black hole?  Has yours done that?  Bloody hell, I need to make haste if I'm to achieve all the stuff I promised myself.  I want an adventure or two, such as a holiday on a Turkish Gulet, or Greek island hopping for a start.  Finishing the office at home would be good too - I can see some of my redundancy getting spent on that.  It shouldn't be much, but factoring in a contingency would hike it up a bit.

Yes, time has a nasty habit of running away at an alarming rate of knots, and I'll lay bets you know that too, don't you?