Ten years ago.
I can hardly believe I've been retired for a decade, but perhaps that's because, as I've said before, the retirement didn't take. I was retired for just shy of a year when I got an email asking if I was interested in teaching a development class, which turned out to be the beginning of a new career.
This morning, the first post I saw on Facebook was about a friend who was retiring -- someone I still think of as too young to be in that position.
But a lot can happen in ten years. And a lot has.
My daughter who was finishing middle school when I completed those exit papers, has finished college and started her first job.
I'm still teaching that class I interviewed for. Along the way I added a few others, three of which I still teach (just not all at once).
And the birthday I'll celebrate in a few months puts me at an age where contemplating actual retirement -- the kind that sticks -- doesn't seem like such a terrible idea.
Way back Wednesday indeed.
 |
| Memed_Nurrohmad via Pixabay |
Today, I have my exit meeting. One more step on the road to retirement that seems to have shrunk dramatically and astonishingly quickly in the past few weeks.
Last weekend, I was sitting in workshops at the Pennwriters conference, planning the next steps on the writing road.Today, not for the first time, I am trying to envision how those roads intersect. While excitement hovers, concerns also loom. An entirely new way of life lies in front of me. That is both extraordinary and terrifying.
So I shuffle my papers and double-check each black-inked field, take Tylenol for the headache born of nerves and allergies, and march forward into the day.
Into my future.
No comments:
Post a Comment