I've completed week 1 of staycation. Here's what happened:
Monday: pre-hearing meeting with our attorney's paralegal to prepare for Fourthborn's disability hearing later this month and Middlest's in November.
Tuesday: no scheduled appointments, but an impromptu visit to the nearest Social Security hub, only to be told by a gracious and professional clerk that I cannot apply for Medicare part B until I have the L564 form from HR, which will not be mailed out until I am fully retired on October 1.
Wednesday: eye exam (mine) with our friend, whom Fourthborn has christened Dr. Eye-Poky, after his teaching her how to insert her contacts. No significant changes. He had said last year that I'd need to consider cataract surgery in the next five years or so. In discussing that, he said, they were growing slowly. Impairment then was about 8%, which I have not noticed. Impairment now is about 10%. I'll wait.
Thursday: two fillings for me.
Friday: monthly doctor checkups for the bipolar bears, followed by the usual trip to our pharmacist and a Whataburger run.
Saturday: lunch with my bestie at La Madeleine and next month's date, time, and venue decided upon.
Week 2 has fewer appointments.
Tomorrow: Middlest has prep for a replacement crown in the morning. I see my hematologist in the afternoon. Anybody's guess as to whether there is another iron infusion in my future.
Thursday: I have an appointment to renew my lapsed driver's license, which did not arrive in the mail back in March..
The following is my farewell address to my colleagues, which I had a coworker mail out on Thursday so as not to clog up my inbox on Friday, when I was trying to zero it out preparatory to handing in my WFH hardware, my parking pass, and my office badge.
"I wish we were not in the middle of a pandemic. Some of you will remember [my initial supervisor] in claims. It was she who persuaded me to take a leap of faith and come to work for [the corporation]. Ideally, she would be here today so that I could thank her face to face and give her a retiree-to-retiree hug.
"I have a former attorney [in this office] to thank for my segue to the Dallas [office]. She was in the Arlington claims office on a day when a claims supervisor who shall remain nameless irritated the fire out of me, and I discovered the posting for a receptionist here. I asked her what it was like to work here. She said it was wonderful, and that I would love it. She was right.
"[The office manager] was home nursing her broken ankle and participated via phone conference in my interview with [the former managing attorney]. So she didn’t get a visual until she returned to the office some weeks later. When I interviewed with [the managing attorney], I was luminous from pain, because I drove from the interview to my pre-surgical consultation for the eviction of my gall bladder. I think he was moved to hire me (somewhat unilaterally, as I recall), more because of my genuine vulnerability than because of his penchant for blondes. I was, at that time, exceedingly blonde. It’s important to state that I was not his type, but we did have a disproportionate number of blondes in the office at the time.
"During my drive home to Arlington, I took a call from my then-manager, who said something along the lines of, 'I do not know what you said in your interview, but they will be making an offer.'”
I began work here the day after Labor Day 2001, one week to the day before 9/11. In my four days at the reception desk, I managed to link names to faces, names to phone extensions, and when I came back to work on the 11th, I thought I was ready to take on the week.
"My second daughter and her husband were moving to Boca Raton that day. The original plan was that they would pop up to the office, exchange hugs, and be on their way. But I was up to my neck in fielding phone calls from my coworkers’ loved ones while the building’s PA was instructing us to vacate the building. My kids drove to Florida without a proper goodbye.
"I locked up the switchboard as quickly as possible and headed home. The skies were empty. Ray Charles was singing “God Bless America.” And I have never before, nor since, seen such studied and amazing courtesy from my fellow commuters.
"So I started out at the front desk, fielding phone calls. When [the office manager] discovered that I was a skilled typist, I moved off the front desk and began transcribing dictation from [three attorneys]. [The dictation from two of them] was impeccable. [The third attorney’s] dictation was a perpetual adventure.
"After [two legal secretaries] retired, I then moved up to be SemperFi’s secretary, with the late [former employee] as my trainer and attorney-explainer. I absolutely adored working with him, except when he was in trial prep mode. Then, I could have cheerfully pinched his head off. He and [his former secretary] had had a raucous habit of exchanging curse words between her desk (where [one of our paralegals] now sits) and his office. When he came up to the front desk (where I was filling in for somebody) he was gracious and warned me that his language might be a little rougher than I was used to. I smiled and said. “You’re an officer. And a gentleman. I’m sure there will be no problem.”
"There were a few minor lapses on his part when he was dealing with recalcitrant technology. I would just get up and quietly close the door to his office.
"I took on an additional attorney when [one of the secretaries] had surgery. This was when we discovered that SemperFi routinely did so many of the things that a secretary does (scheduled his own depos and mediations, because he didn’t want anyone other than a judge telling him what to do, or when), that I was not an effective secretary for poor [new attorney]. However, we all worked together to get me up to speed, and for several years I had half-dockets for [several other attorneys in succession] then after SemperFi’s retirement, one full docket and half of another’s.
"I have loved working with my attorneys, and with my fellow secretaries and admins. Not to forget [the office manager and managing attorney]. I’ve learned so much from all of you.
"[Two years ago] I began having ongoing health challenges, about which the less said the better. But they affected my energy levels, my focus, and my ability to remain awake at my desk while engaged in work that I loved. [The office manager] was able to keep me usefully and gainfully employed by transitioning me to serve as your records processor. [The former records processor] has trained me well and continues to be a valuable and greatly appreciated backup. I had felt competent and productive at this monotask until the first bout of bronchitis this year. As some of you know, I had another bout during July, and then I caught Covid. And then I caught another bout of bronchitis with a side order of Covid. I have masked up so often that I feel like the Lone Ranger. Who was that masked ma’am? I don’t know, but she left in that silver Escape.
"I’d spoken with [a trusted colleague], off and on over the years, about my prayers to know when it was time to retire. I had certain financial goals that I wanted to reach first, and I was hoping to make it to 25 years with [the firm] or maybe even longer.
"However, I had my prayers answered the second week of August, and now here we are.
"Thank you all for being my work family. You are, individually and collectively, some of the finest human beings it’s been my privilege to know in my long life, and I will miss seeing you and talking with you and praying with you and asking you to pray for me. You’ve seen me through single parenthood on a small [corporate] beginning salary, which immediately improved once I got here, to remarriage, to widowhood, to being immensely blessed and peaceful, notwithstanding the occasional speed bumps.
"Here's how to keep in touch if you’re so inclined:
1. (personal email address)
2. Contact info on Facebook. I’m a little hard to find. If all else fails, find me among [a coworker's] friends.
3. On Discord, I’m [screen name].
4. I’ve been blogging since 2006. If you want to follow me there, please email me, and I’ll tell you how to find me.
"You’ve asked me what I plan to do in retirement. There are a bushel of appointments for the bipolar bears and me in my [first three] weeks out of the office. After that, I hope to rediscover my innate biorhythms. I will probably be sleeping like a teenager on summer vacation for several weeks: up until well after midnight and sleeping through the day. I have faith that it will all settle out. There will be lots of reading. There are, as of this writing, 20+ books in my Audible queue, perhaps twice that many in my Kindle queue, and a very tall stack of physical books, plus two magazine subscriptions that are at least a year unread, each. There are two vocal scores that I want to buy: Carmen and Madame Butterfly. Because who doesn’t want to sing grand opera in the shower? And theoretically at least I have the range for both. You might want to check on the bipolar bears’ sanity this time next year.
"And then of course there is the knitting, and the Zentangle, and the desire to learn how to draw representational art. I will be writing and writing and writing. My blog. My memoir. Perhaps more poetry; I haven’t needed to write poetry since meeting and marrying Beloved. I have three self-published chapbooks written during the disintegration of my marriage to the children’s father.
"But first and foremost, there will be naps.
"May God, however you see Him and worship Him, or your higher power if you’re more comfortable with that, bless you all."
