While on a girlfriend road trip two years ago, my Alaska buddies asked me if I was going to retire when I turned 60. Uh, no, I said. I'm working for medical insurance. They reminded me that I had worked in Tier 2 for the State of Alaska and since I had vested I would qualify for retirement at age sixty. When I got home from that trip, I did a little research and here I am, 3 days away from retirement thanks to the State of Alaska, my ex-mother-in-law (who encouraged me to work for the state), and those girlfriends who were looking out for me. I pushed legal papers at the attorney general's office which was perhaps the most boring job I've ever had.Today I turned 60.
It feels weird to say that. I don't feel like what I imagined 60 to be. I did a little body inventory this morning. Besides the tiny ache in my fingers from what I can only surmise to be inflammation, or arthritis trying to come on, I feel healthy. Oh, and that pesky presbylarynx I was recently diagnosed with. I was sitting with my cup of coffee, looking out the window, when a strong sense of connection to my past came wooshing in.
I have so much to say.
I have so much to say that it falls apart when I think about how I would go about saying it. My writer friends who read this know exactly what I mean. Trying to reel it in and write it so it makes sense and maybe can help someone else who has struggled with life decisions is like nailing jello to a tree.
I don't need to have a near death experience to have my life flash before my eyes. It happens to me on a frequent basis. One day while I lived in Alaska, while riding the bus to work at my state job, I looked out the window and thought shit, is this all there is? I just didn't buy it. I was unhappy. Things would go so far downhill from that moment and I didn't even know it.
But I survived.
I only have 9 minutes remaining to finish this post before I have to get ready for work. I can hardly wait for my time to be my own.
This story to be continued.