What do you expect! After 30 years organizing your work life, you have been set free- aka floundering. I was so anxious about retiring I enrolled in University - needed some structure other than playing golf and bridge.
I bought a Costco sized package of reading glasses and I try to keep a set at every possible work station...and yet inevitably there is never a pair when I need one. I feel your pain :)
Having been "unorganized" for quite a while already, I relate to your post and share the angst of "breaking news", since it is combined with the sense that I no longer have any role to play. Reading "Bittersweet" by Susan Cain now, I wonder if retirement, no matter how welcome, brings with it grief for the breach of purpose and agency. Still, that sadness comes with the freedom to be idle as a child seeing the world through eyes that have no where else to be. Last night under the patio light, a fat fluttering moth was in my flowers and watching it weigh down each petunia blossom felt like a gift.
What do you expect! After 30 years organizing your work life, you have been set free- aka floundering. I was so anxious about retiring I enrolled in University - needed some structure other than playing golf and bridge.
I bought a Costco sized package of reading glasses and I try to keep a set at every possible work station...and yet inevitably there is never a pair when I need one. I feel your pain :)
And I just can't bring myself to wear those strings around my neck. Like those mitten strings.
Having been "unorganized" for quite a while already, I relate to your post and share the angst of "breaking news", since it is combined with the sense that I no longer have any role to play. Reading "Bittersweet" by Susan Cain now, I wonder if retirement, no matter how welcome, brings with it grief for the breach of purpose and agency. Still, that sadness comes with the freedom to be idle as a child seeing the world through eyes that have no where else to be. Last night under the patio light, a fat fluttering moth was in my flowers and watching it weigh down each petunia blossom felt like a gift.
Thank you so much for these beautifully expressed thoughts. Your words are like that moth, a gift.