Welp, I’d say Happy Monday but I’m pretty sure that’s an oxymoron.
So what’s this, week seventeen? Time flies when you’re having fun, huh.
I started today logging on Facebook and seeing that a long time friend of mine, my exact age though I’m four days older, gave notice on Friday.
She retiring, as people our age do.
As my husband did.
She looks so fucking happy in her updated profile pic this morning I’m questioning my entire existence.
Yeah, well, she also has a house at the beach so she’s got somewhere to go.
I felt a vicious stab of jealousy but let’s be realistic.
What am I going to do if I retire during the apocalypse, sit around and watch 53 year old Passwords on television and yell at dead people?
Yeah, we’re back to that. It’s Groundhog Day at Casa Slick.
There’s Gary shouting clues at Scoey Mitchell last week. I stopped working and came downstairs when I heard him yelling.
I thought he was fighting with a robocaller, his other new hobby since retiring.
But no, he was in an argument with Scoey Mitchell for not giving a good clue.
“Omg, Gary, he can’t hear you, he’s dead!”
“Scoey Mitchell is dead? Aw, no.” Gary was not pleased.
“He’s gotta be. He was like 50 in 1967,” I said, punching his name on my phone.
“I like him,” Gary said.
“Jfc, he’s still alive. Oh hey, he’s 90, maybe you can visit him at the nursing home. Oh wait, never mind, the coronavirus, you can’t go.”
“Scoeyyyyy,” Gary said.
I stared at my husband with my mouth open. I mean, come on. He was acting like a senior in assisted living.
I should invite him to Arts and Crafts hour.
We’re painting rocks.
😂😂😂😂😂😂
Maybe we can invite his new pal, Lou, our 80 year old retired neighbor.
Oy, Julie’s bedroom is on the second floor at the front of the house so when Gary stands outside and talks, I can hear every word.
When he talks to Lou, I feel like I’m listening to an episode of the Andy Griffith show.
“Well, howdy there, Lou! This here is my award winning tomato plant. I’m a-gonna submit it for consideration at the County Fair. What’s that? Yep, I’m retired. The wife...the little woman...is working from home.”
The wife? The little woman? Okay, I’m exaggerating but still. I raised the window shade and glared down at Gary but he didn’t look up. He was too busy giving Lou a plant by plant description of our ghetto garden.
Oh god, they’re discussing fertilizer.
I blasted music so I didn’t have to hear. I was afraid Gary was going to sign us up for post pandemic shuffleboard and gin rummy with Lou and his wife.
I can tell Lou’s wife thinks I’m a hussy. She’s caught me outside without a bra and never actually says hello, it’s more of a grunt.
I gotta be honest, I’m not a fan of old people even though I’m one of them.
Especially because I’m one of them. 😂😂😂😂😂😂
I wish I could just hang out with my kids. When we’re all together, the six of us laugh like idiots. There’s always unlimited great stories and never ending plates of amazing food.
Old is the absolute last thing we feel.
Oh hell, now I’ve done it.
Okay, deep breaths.
See? This is why I can’t retire yet. I can’t sit here crying, I have a buttload of work to do.
But fuck it, I am taking Friday off. I need to be good to myself and have something to look forward to.
That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.
Ahhh... I feel better already.
You should be good to yourselves, too.
Peace out, comrades.
