The deadline has passed
My deadline for deciding if I would take the retirement package came and went yesterday and I decided I wanted to get on all the amusement park rides until I've no more rides to take. I am grateful for the job I have as they are not going to get rid of us it seems, so I smile and ride on. Life now is a Tilt-A-Whirl without the safety bar but I scream like a little girl and laugh like I'm brave. At least now I have 18 months to figure out what I am going to do.
One friend was furloughed and then was offered the package which she is taking. Her husband has a job he loves so she will be on his insurance and will finish all the projects she's toyed with and then will perhaps volunteer. Another friend and her husband had sold their home and bought another in the suburbs to be near their daughter and her family. She said the job just wasn't fun any longer and once they are moved into the new place, she said she will get a job at Costco or Woodman's or Jewel. She said it doesn't have to be important or special, just a job to bring in some extra money and give her something to do. Her husband can't retire quite yet but she will get Medicare and they will make it work.
And I will just work because I like working -- although working at home is a colossal drag -- and it's just 18 months more. This gives me time to decide what I am going to do next and for Covid-19 to calm the freak down.
What I am not going to do? Write my memoirs. No one wants to read that shit.
One friend was furloughed and then was offered the package which she is taking. Her husband has a job he loves so she will be on his insurance and will finish all the projects she's toyed with and then will perhaps volunteer. Another friend and her husband had sold their home and bought another in the suburbs to be near their daughter and her family. She said the job just wasn't fun any longer and once they are moved into the new place, she said she will get a job at Costco or Woodman's or Jewel. She said it doesn't have to be important or special, just a job to bring in some extra money and give her something to do. Her husband can't retire quite yet but she will get Medicare and they will make it work.
And I will just work because I like working -- although working at home is a colossal drag -- and it's just 18 months more. This gives me time to decide what I am going to do next and for Covid-19 to calm the freak down.
What I am not going to do? Write my memoirs. No one wants to read that shit.
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