Given the struggling economy and a nagging fear that my retirement fund will run out before I do, I’ve reluctantly decided to reenter the work force. Yes, I’m going to become a productive citizen again – although I won’t actually be producing anything you can see, touch or eat. This job is uniquely suited to my talents and experience and I was tickled to death to be picked from several hundred applicants.
Ever since I got a paddling from my first grade teacher, I’ve followed the rules of “fitting in” obsessively – no cutting up in line, no talking with your mouth full, and no running with scissors. I subscribe to the old adage “pretty is as pretty does,” and the biggy – keep up with those snooty Joneses at all costs.
Hey, not only did I keep up with them, I BECAME one of them. Little good it did me. Suddenly I arrive at the Middle Ages too repressed to say “boo” without blushing. My entire wardrobe is black, white and gray – depressing and lackluster. I do love the color purple but I was led to believe the color was garish and generally worn by floozies. I had no idea what a floozy was but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to become one. Continue reading
You know you’ve crossed the line when the number one item on your ‘to do’ list is “do the ‘to do’ list.” That way I can accomplish one thing, even it’s only the making of the list.
The second warning sign is when you do something on a whim and go back and add it to the list just so you can check it off. I do both of these things on a regular basis and now I learn that such behavior may be an early sign of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD).
I’ve decided that 2014 will be the year I will slow down and enjoy my life. For some reason I do everything in a hurry and don’t know why (Isn’t that a country song?). I rush in and out of the shower and make the bed while brushing my teeth with tooth paste dripping on the floor. I talk fast, drive fast, and want everything done yesterday.
I have been toying with giving up my cable which offers little more than reality bumpkin shows, home shopping networks and a couple of 24-hour news networks which feature people yelling at each other in the name of debate. It’s disgusting and I just don’t watch TV much anymore unless the weather is threatening. (I do love my weather man who appears on the Tupelo affiliate of NBC.)
Instead, I’ve become fascinated with Netflix which offers much more than movie reruns. It offers a plethora of 1960-70s comedy series which quenches my nostalgic sensibilities and a constantly changing program of dramatic series and documentaries which led me to my Johnny Carson reference.