the first 100 days
not the first 100 days you think it is
No, this isn’t about those first 100 days every one has been talking about this week — mostly. We celebrated (???), recognized (???), observed (???!) the FOTUS administration’s first 100 days in a ZOOM call with our retirement financial planner because of FOTUS administration’s first 100 days. The retirement nest egg we carefully, conservatively curated and grew is not so robust and, well, we had to have a sit-down with our even more fiscally conservative financial planner because of the first 100 days of this FOTUS and his administration and what likely is not going to get better — at least as long as this kakistocracy continues to fuck things up.
🤦🏼♀️
That’s enough of those first 100 days.
Remember when I retired about 100 days ago?
What about those first 100 days?
Honestly, anytime I engage in a conversation with someone who is aware of this new adventure of mine it always begins with “so how is retirement?”
Well —
They are asking imagining big adventures and travel and play on the daily. Then again scroll back to that first paragraph. There is also the reality that my darling husband is not quite one year post stem cell transplant and still is working on his childhood vaccine re-immunization schedule. Travel is something we hope for but in these precedented times perhaps not right now. We actually have talked about it. Texas, we thought last December, would be the first place to go to. Bill’s closest friend since high school lives there. Right around the time that Bill was diagnosed and in what felt like a free fall decline, Gary abruptly ended his vacation and flew here to stay with us and help me manage Bill’s care. Gary is good people. His wife is good people too supporting him as he helped us out. He came back a few months later to help out some more. Like I said, Gary is good people, and because he is good people, we wanted to spend some time with him and his family in Sugarland, perhaps with a side trip to San Antonio a place we fell in love with the last time we were in Texas for Gary and Paula’s wedding. Unfortunately, measles is a thing again and me, having the measles as a small child and being really sick from it, I’m certain that until my darling husband can get his first MMR vaccine — next year — air travel is a big NO, especially to Texas for now.
Sorry Gary.
Meanwhile, the nightshift nurse has been enjoying this thing known as a good night’s sleep. My sleep app is quite pleased. I have been trying to reset the body clock but it would seem that 100 days in I am just not going to be a morning person. Then again, why would I want to rise as the sun rises? I’m retired.
Still there are things that must be — at least I believe — accomplished. Reorganizing continues but not as fast as I might want it to proceed being married to a keeper. Nevertheless, I persist because this year’s homeowner’s project/Mother’s Day/wedding anniversary gift promises to make this book lover so, so happy. Am I looking forward to the chaos of the project and the challenge of us working on it together? Just know that my mantra will be great things come from construction zones not comfort zones and my focal point when chanting said mantra shall be the Pinterest inspiration board I created. We managed to build a pantry nine years ago and then here under this Big Top, the construction of a pool, a patio and a new front door — sweet goddess take the wheel.
So those first 100 days, at least to me, feels like much has been accomplished. Definitely much more positive and gainful than what the FOTUS and his administration has accomplished.
Sleeping fairly well, walking miles, lifting heavier weights — check!
Enjoying a regular skin care routine, trying new recipes using the bougie cookware that had been gathering dust, actually reading and finishing the books on my giant to be read pile — check, check!
Plotting and planning with my darling husband what we shall do with the pesky gophers who raided my flower beds destroying all the tulip and peony bulbs I had planted because damn you, mother fuckers! —check, check, check!
At least the poppies have survived those beasts. Sitting on my patio while sipping my morning coffee and giving thanks for the poppies poppy-ing to distract me from doom scrolling the news of the first 100 days of sliding into fascism in these United States is absolutely a big accomplishment and for that I shall give thanks and remind myself that this life I have been given is because I am strong enough to live it — and enjoy it.