No Regerts ..... Well Maybe One

What could be better than a Saturday at work? Apparently nothing since I keep volunteering for it. It's almost become a robotic ritual and response for me. There's a sign-up list posted. I briefly consider the alternatives and possibilities, salivate at the prospect of a little extra money, then sign up for the day, regretting it as my pen-in-hand slowly forms the letter 'e' in Mike. As if my pen hand is reconsidering my choices. But even with mass regret and shame swelling in me, I can't bring myself to cross my name off the list.

It's an illness. 

If I'm asked someday about my regrets in life, this inability as I grow older, to take the day off, may be number one.

I used to be quite the opposite. I'd jump at any offers to stay home. I'd get creative in coming up with reasons and ways to stay away from work. How did this change? Can it be reversed? I'm envious of those who scoff at the sign-up form. I think my co-workers who sign up are fools. I thought that getting my pension and social security started would free me from this burden, but it has yet to kick in. 

On a related side note, I delivered some good news earlier today on a requested day off. I was the middleman between boss and co-worker. The bearer of good news. It felt good. Something to try again. 

Assumptions

They could at least wait until I request it .....

The senior discount received tonight. One quick glance from the attendant at the drive through window and it was given. I've still not reached the point where I want it to be assumed or automatic by people encountering me for the first time. 

The Itch

Made it through again and this time with barely a sniffle. And I didn't need a single pill. 

They said it was going to be bad season. (It seems that they say that every year.) They were wrong. 

July 15th ..... Yesterday .... the date I've identified over the years when my seasonal allergies end. 

Do these things go away with age? Can you outgrow an allergy? (I've had that in my head for years .... like I heard it somewhere.) Did the covid vaccines have anything to do with it? (My personal proposed theory. No research behind it.) 

And I managed it with discipline this time around. I hope it's ok to be proud of myself. I mostly kept my hands away from my eyes. That's always been the point where I break down and lose control ..... the hands rubbing the eyes causing the itch to intensify. Mind over matter. 

The Soup's On Me

This is so typical of my life these days .....

It's literally been five minutes since I pulled and donned my freshly washed and dried, wrinkle free, favorite long sleeve, button down shirt from the dryer and I'm standing in front of the crock pot, spoon feeding myself right from the pot, the hamburger soup that I was so proud of creating and I look down to see a big heaping teaspoon full of the soup contents, on my shirt, sinking deeper and deeper into the fabric.

I mean, that was the reason it was in the wash in the first place .... to remove the stain from a previous feeding and I can't even make it five minutes. 

Apparently, I need to invest time in some lessons in kitchen etiquette and mealtime table manners ..... or a bib. 

Senior Citizen Bliss

I guess I'm just about as cool at this moment in time as I'm ever going to get .....

Still working fulltime, with five weeks of paid vacation for the year still in my back pocket, while getting both my pension and social security started and playing daily rounds of Wordle and this new game I've been turned onto, Immaculate Grid, (for baseball geeks). It's not so bad after all being a senior citizen. I just need to remember all the places where I can get a discount for that status.

Plus, there's not a dirty dish or utensil in the house, there's two new books on my Kindle and a supermoon appearance tonight.

I'll refrain from mentioning potential downfalls, (other than frequent weirder and stranger dreams) .... wary of that self-fulfilling prophecy thing.