Structure

Weekends used to mean watering the houseplants, watering the patio plants, changing the sheets, and boiling new hummingbird nectar. I always knew when these chores had last been done. Today is Saturday, but after several weeks of retirement, the days are a jumble. When did I change the sheets? I don't remember. How long has that hummingbird nectar been out there? I don't know.

The holidays are over. Time to get organized.

I HAVE put together a sort of structure to aim for: a daily allotment of 20 minutes strength training, 40 minutes treadmill (because that's how long a West Wing segment lasts), I hour unpacking and rearranging, 30 minutes learning something new, 30 to 60 minutes household maintenance, two hours reading, and so on. That, of course, fell apart the first day when most everything but the exercising took longer than I aimed for. But rather than give myself Ann Landers' lashes with a wet noodle, I remembered my Midwestern retired friend's description (see November 22) of what she aims for and how she measures herself against it. She tries each day to include five things: 1) something she does for herself; 2) something she does for others; 3) something for the inside of her house; 4) something for the outside of her house; and 5) something professional. She doesn't tally up every night. Every few days she thinks back on what she's been doing. If she has let something slide, she puts greater effort into that area.

I think I can live with that kind of structure. My daily list says what I want to be sure to do: get time for reading, creating, fun, and learning; time for exercise; time for other people; and time for all the tasks that keep a well-rounded daily life going. Some days one or more of those is going to crowd out the others. But if I'm aware of what I want to fit in, and if I assess myself every few days, maybe that kind of structure will work.

Anyway, it's New Year's Eve, and time for resolutions, right?

Good day

Yesterday: Thank-you notes finished. A big trash bag of old shoes and clothes, thrown out. Two moving boxes emptied, that had been cluttering the laundry room floor. The 3-audio CD set of Spanish for Dummies, that I had bought in October and misplaced, located in upstairs closet. Photos taken of a gorgeous red camellia, for my creative act of the day. And the tempting tortilla chips were successfully avoided at dinner. A good retirement sort of day.

Years of "to-dos," piled up

My "to-do" list threatens to become overwhelming. For the past several years, work duties have overflowed into my evenings and weekends, and things I didn't have time to deal with began to pile up. They piled up both literally -- in my closets and cabinets, and figuratively -- in my mind, which became cluttered with visions of creative and pleasurable things I wanted to do. Even when the idea of retirement had not even entered my thoughts, I was still promising myself I'd deal with these things in the hazy someday when I wasn't working all day every day.

Now that day is here, and the array of things waiting to be done is daunting. I don't even know where to start. I feel like a "Cathy" comic strip I once read: I need to do THIS but I can't do it until I have done THAT, and I can't do THAT because it depends on this other thing, and I can't do the other thing yet because ….

Perhaps the key is to decide which tasks need tackling soonest, and then to break the big task down into little pieces. Right near the top of any "soonest" list will be my shoe collection. I had half my shoes here at home, neatly sorted on a shoe shelf, and the other half were at the apartment. Now they are all here, spilling out onto my closet floor threatening to trip me every time I venture there. I can't put them away until I have found more space. I can't find more space until I identify something that can be eliminated. That's the toughest part, but that's where I need to start. And no excuses now.

So maybe the answer is to go fix myself one of those nice lattes and sip it while I review my closet for unneeded possessions. Stay tuned for progress with the shoes……

Excuses and choices

It's noon on Dec. 26. I'm retired. Millions of people across the country went back to work this morning, though their Christmas photos aren't reviewed yet, much less sorted and shared; they have gifts they have barely looked at; and there's a stack of thank-you notes to write. Those magazines with promising holiday recipes and the enticing catalogs are headed for the trash, still filled with potential but still unread. Meanwhile, I'm here at home with no boss expecting me to come in, no work deadlines looming. My Christmas photos, gifts, thank-you notes, magazines, and catalogs are waiting too, just like my workbound friends'. While I have no boss expecting a report by 4 p.m., I have a very long to-do list of household jobs -- and no excuse to postpone them. I remember Andrei Codrescu on NPR, who said a job is a bucket of excuses and when you retire, you don't have that bucket anymore.

My holiday photos should be labeled, tagged, and sent today! My new latte maker ought to be unpacked, installed, and pressed into service. My thank-you notes ought to be half-finished at least. My closet has become a danger zone and should be straightened up by suppertime at least. Wouldn't I have accomplished at least that many things if I were in the office? C'mon, retired lady, get moving, no excuses.

On the other hand……. I didn't retire to feel harried, so that list needs to be whittled down. How to whittle is the key. For now, I'm going to stick to simple criteria: something for myself, something for others. "For others" will be the thank-you notes; "for myself" will be the latte maker, which will do double-duty as putting it into service will make the giver happy too. So I'm off to make a latte, and then will be back to craft some thank-you notes…….

On waiting peacefully

One by one, I am discovering the tiny gifts of being retired. This morning I had to take care of an expired car inspection sticker. The inspections are available only between 8 and 4 and it had always been a challenge to fit one into a workday. Today, I could have gone for mine at 8, or noon, or basically whenever I wanted. My day promised to be full, but there was nothing tied to any specific time. I arrived at the shop at 9:30 and the car was inspected, more or less, by a sixty-something man who could barely grunt his instructions because of a golf ball-sized wad of chewing tobacco in his right cheek. The inspection, though cursory, was leisurely to the point of "Is he killing time?" But I was  not due back at the office, so I was able to wait peacefully, even with some amusement, without fretting.

I hope to expand on that gift of not having to hurry.

(I've never wanted to write a novel, but for those friends of mine who hope to, here's a character for you……)

Things that never got done

Retirement is like any other leaving, I guess; it's an end to what was and what can never be again. It means that a lot of things you intended to do will never get done. As I completed my work duties last week, I thought of a person I had intended to get to know, and I saw a friend with whom I had intended to have a conversation about a subject of mutual interest. But I had never taken the time to get to know the person, and I had never taken time to have the conversation.

My work and location the past 20 years offered a lot of opportunities for wonderful things and while I enjoyed many of them, many were things I just always meant to do, sometime …… but I didn't. Most likely now, I never will.

In retirement there will be new people to meet, new conversations to have, new opportunities for wonderful things. Somehow I must make sure I get around to them!

Looking for leisure.....

A couple of days ago my husband noted that I seem to have fallen down on my blogging duties. And I am well aware that a blog that looks abandoned will die. But retirement, moving, and a major holiday don't mix well! There were looming holiday deadlines, such as e-mail subject lines proclaiming "LAST day to order for arrival by Christmas!" Some of those gifts had to be created first. A marathon eight-hour session ending in the wee hours resulted in an iPhoto gift book which I hope will bring pleasure; there were photos to be toned and cropped and either ordered or assembled into a collage, just so.

In between projects I made more trips to the apartment to load up the car yet again with boxes and book shelves and bulky wire carts and more boxes. The apartment was only 850 square feet; how could it have held all that STUFF?

And in between holiday projects and moving trips there were a few final work obligations, such as baking the expected blueberry pie for the departmental post-graduation dinner and attending a final committee meeting.

There wasn't much retirement leisure in there, and there wasn't any blogging either.

Fortunately, my husband, who is partially retired, put up the Christmas tree and bought and wrapped packages to put under it. That is a very good thing, because two of the grandkids were here last weekend and they checked under the tree to see if there was anything for them. Thanks to hubby, there was.

A bit of advice I can pass on: Don't move at holiday time if you can help it. Either you will move or celebrate the holiday but it's hard to do both. A close colleague at the university just finished moving to a city three states away. She was offered a great new job and asked if she would start just as soon as the fall semester was over. The moving van left their house Dec. 9 and delivered their goods to the house in the new city on Dec. 19. Their holiday goal, she told me, was quite limited: They wanted to have a tree up, however small it might be. Yesterday she sent me a cellphone shot of a tiny but gaily lit tree AND a poinsettia in their living room. They are having Christmas despite the hubbub, and we will too.

Today I ignored all responsibilities, even my three weeks' overdue car safety inspection. A favorite word of retirees, I have been told, is MANANA. It has a nice ring to it.

Jane Pauley on retirement

In cleaning out my apartment in town (a job that's just in the beginning stages; I'll be assimilating stuff for months), I came upon an old AARP magazine with an article by Jane Pauley about retirement. She said she considers herself still doing work but of a different kind. She gets up in the morning and gets dressed as if she were going off to work. She said that makes her more ready for a structured, productive day. I'll have to think on that one. It is true that I am more likely to exercise if I put on exercise shoes and clothes. But can a mode of dress keep one from frittering? I could run an experiment….

Anyone out there try that?

First workday at home

I slept in till 8:30 this morning. Last night I stayed up till past midnight and with great pleasure did not set the alarm for this morning.

A friend told me that on his first workday at home after retirement, he set TWO alarm clocks, just for the fun of shutting off both of them and then going back to sleep.

That's an idea, but I just slept in. After getting up I ate a quick breakfast and husband and I headed off to town to run errands: post office, drug store, hardware store, groceries. After we got home it was time to fix lunch. After eating and cleaning up, I looked at the clock. 12:30 p.m. This is how days get eaten up in retirement. The minutiae of life expand.

I need a structure, but with room for serendipity.

Right now, though, Christmas is coming and I'm about two weeks behind on what needs to be done. Structure goes to the back burner. The key will be to not let it stay there.

'First weekend with no subsequent week'

An alum messaged me on Facebook today, "So how's the first weekend with no subsequent week?"

Usually at this time on a Sunday afternoon, I would have to shift into high gear. There was always so much that needed to get done over a weekend, and by about 5 p.m. on a Sunday I would realize how much of it still remained to be done. So Sunday evenings were always a bit pressured: With the alarm going off at 6 a.m., how late would it be before I could mark everything "Done"?

This afternoon, when the cat climbed into my lap obviously wanting a long neck-scratching session, I let him stay. I still have a "Must do" list before bedtime -- that's inescapable in a holiday month -- but I'm not scrambling. The cat's happy, husband is happy. I'm going to go now and try a new recipe, pumpkin pancakes, for supper.

Not the only one!

In Googling for other blogs on retirement I came upon "The Dedalus Log," in which the very first paragraph distilled much of my feelings so far on retirement. So many of my friends, and my husband, had assured me without reservation that I would LOVE retirement. It was good to realize that I was not alone in feeling that retirement was a prospect fraught with uncertainties. This is what the Dedalus blogger wrote:

"The word retirement raises mixed feelings in me. The word both excites me, and repulses me. On the one hand, it generates visions of comfort, ease, relaxation, and freedom from the stress and constraints of work. I would not have to face the people, problems, and anxieties that bombard me every day as a middle school principal. I would be able to concentrate on the activities I enjoy: reading, writing, photographing, exercising, learning, meditating, and seeing new things and people. On the other hand, retirement also raises images of laziness, slovenliness, and activities without point or purpose. I see myself on a never-ending vacation: getting out of bed at 10:00 A.M., reading the newspaper until noon, distracting myself for hours on the computer, dining, drinking, and falling asleep in front of the television. I fear becoming dull, bored, and unkempt, without the need to produce, achieve, or impress."

I have wondered the same thing. One of my friends fears that if he retires, he will become a world-class piddler. I have wondered about that too.

But this, my first day of retirement, is not a time to worry about that. I'm going to close The Dedalus Log and go send some Christmas cards to my friends.....

First thing

It's a little after noon on Saturday. I moved out of the office yesterday, and I moved a large portion from the apartment this morning. Now I'm home, and this is it.

Friends have been asking, "What will be the first thing you'll do?" It seems like I should do something grand and symbolic. One of my friends said her husband, a busy gastroenterologist, went to the Mississippi River bridge right after he retired and, with some ceremony and great glee, threw his pager into the river.

I can't think of any comparably grand gesture... except to spend an evening doing nothing. There's a stack of boxes waiting to be incorporated into the household somehow and my dining room won't be useable until they are moved.... but 'nothing' sounds pretty grand to me. I think I'll go take a walk, then we might go out for dinner.....

Empty office

Last day

Oh, the little stuff.... Pulling my name off the tape dispenser. It's the last vestige of my identity in this room. The computer, of course, is still very much mine, but in a couple of weeks the hard drive will be wiped clean, ready for someone new. I find myself wondering about what kind of person will occupy this office next. Will it be a man or woman, what will they think of the little striped cat I'm leaving, that has sat on the top shelf of the bookcase with his fishing pole for 10 years now, dangling a little orange fish on the end of his line. Will the new occupant think he's cute, or flick him into the wastebasket first thing? My husband would remind me, 'You don't have to worry about that, you'll be gone,' and he's right.... but I wonder. What kind of person will it be, taking care of MY kids and watching over MY department? Would I approve?

It's time now to start carrying boxes out to the car.

Notes from the final week

It's been quite a fun week at the office, with a lot of people stopping by to talk. One of our alums, who now works across campus, stopped by to say he still had the retirement party pictures in his camera but he'd copy them off soon. When I pointed out that he is the busy dad of a toddler, he told me their latest story, of his and his wife's attempt to cut the little one's bangs. She would always wiggle and the bangs came out crooked, so they decided to try it while she was asleep. He put on a headlamp to help him see in the dark bedroom and his wife took the scissors. Snip, snip … and the child woke up. What must she have thought, our alum said, of this strange creature with a light shining from his head, peering over her in the dark, and a pair of giant scissors right above her eyes. Picturing the sight, I laughed out loud.

Then I stopped in at a co-worker's office, where our secretary was, and we three told more stories for awhile before we decided we had better get back to work.


A number of students have come by on their way out of town for the holidays, to catch me up on what they are doing and where they are headed -- some are graduating. Most of them have grad school in their sights; scary job market, I guess.

One of our student employees stopped by to say goodbye yesterday, and related that she is the next-to-youngest of 11 siblings, and she is aunt to 29 nieces and nephews. I know that she must have many stories to tell, if we weren't saying goodbye.

One of the new editors, who's been in and out of my office regularly for the past several weeks, stood outside my office door today with a clear look of panic on her face. "What will I do when this office is empty?" she wailed. She feels like she's heading into new and scary responsibilities with no rock to hold onto. She's more capable than she gives herself credit for, and I try to reassure her. One of my students from 20 years ago, who went on to be an editor at a major metropolitan newspaper, wrote the nicest note for my retirement party saying I gave her the confidence to believe she could be a writer and editor. I hope I have been able to do that with this student also.

One more day. I've still a list of loose ends!

Two days

Tomorrow is Thursday. By Friday afternoon, everything that I ever wanted to get accomplished in my job at the university needs to be COMPLETED, because time is up. I guess the key is to look forward, not backward at the bright ideas I had that never got off the ground, or the things I started that never got traction. It's time to look at what's there, tie up loose ends, then wrap it all up with a big bow and declare it Finished!

Walls

For some weeks now, I've been sorting and diminishing the two decades' accumulation of stuff in my office. The recycle guy has hauled out many pounds of paper and I have carried out a few boxes of books and photos. The room is looking noticeably emptier, or so I thought. But co-workers would come by and say, "Hmmm, you've got a ways to go yet!"

Last night I took down the pictures and favorite layouts from my walls. This morning co-workers walking by stopped in their tracks. The empty expanses of red paint signified an ending much more starkly than partially empty shelves had.

At one point I had thought the pictures and layouts would be the last to go. Taking them down took only 10 minutes. But I found I need that visual reminder that the end is coming and I need to speed up. I still have things to write and submit before I go, and a couple of problems to resolve, in addition to leaving this office with organized and labeled contents. But the walls are a reminder that the end is coming.

The final week

Three days left in the office. Some of the students are asking if my email address will still work, and can they send me a story now and then to look at? Hear that: They want my advice. Now who can turn down somebody who wants your advice? So of course I said yes. I don't think they'll do it TOO often.... I don't want to get anything started.

Other than that the turning loose is going pretty well. Walking to the parking lot Monday evening I saw a woman from another department. In my pre-retiree life, I would have chatted her up as part of a constant bridge-building effort with other departments. On Monday I smiled, nodded, and kept walking.

The packing, on the other hand, is  not going that well. There's too much I want to keep. I'm going to need a big new bookcase.....

Party!

Had a truly amazing retirement party. Such fun seeing people from the whole 20 years-plus span of my work there. My first boss was there; an early student sent a thank-you; a flock of students from 10 years ago took time out of their jobs to come say hello. And current students came too. We put my collection of desk toys around on the tables, and the students went 'round and chose their favorites to take home. I had a lifelike cardboard-cutout cat that had lived in my office window for about 15 years and I officially passed it on to our business manager. There was great food and amazing desserts, and lots of laughter. It was all great fun.

My West Coast retired friend -- who is mostly retired but she keeps going back to do a few things -- says retirement parties are important as part of that final letting go. She didn't have one; a well-meaning colleague mistakenly passed on the idea that she didn't want one. Now she thinks a party might have been useful as a sort of official cutoff. I think she is right. Although I have five days left in the office, after that time I have no plans to go back in any capacity. I'm done and have said my goodbyes.