Raise A Glass

So I had my first official day of retirement last week. And it was lucky it happened when it did, because things were rapidly devolving as I got closer and closer to the date. The week before, I’d been talking to one of the bigger bosses when Atlas, having decided that he was bored in the absence of Ken, launched himself onto my lap. Which would have been ok except that one of his big, slappy paws grabbed the neckline of my sweater, pulling it and my bra down far enough that it was quite the show. Fortunately, my male colleague was looking at his other monitor, giving me time to shove Atlas away and rectify the wardrobe malfunction. And then the next day, I had to rush downstairs to meet with my direct supervisor who had called me early for a meeting. I hadn’t quite been fully dressed when she messaged to see if I was available, so I threw on a top and ran to the computer. After the meeting, I went into the kitchen:

Ken (laughing): Why are you wearing a fancy blouse, plaid flannel pajama shorts, and your slippers?
Me: Impromptu meeting.
Ken: No bra?
Me (shimmies): Obviously not.

As you can see, all the signals were there. So, you ask, was your first day of retirement as gloriously awesome as everyone says it should be? In short, NO.

The Beginning

Ken had an early morning balloon launch, so he left me to have a luxurious sleep in. But at around 7:30, I was lying there, all cuddly and warm, when I heard a sudden noise. Atlas was in the back room where he stays when Ken has to leave early, and I knew it wasn’t him. So I did what any normal person would do—I grabbed the baseball bat that I keep by the bed and snuck out of the bedroom to peer down the hallway. Nothing. I kept going, realizing that if anyone actually WAS in the house, Atlas would be going apesh*t, and when I got to the back room, sure enough, he was curled up on his chair looking sleepy. “Come on, buddy,” I encouraged him, and he followed me back upstairs where we settled back into bed. Less than 5 minutes later, his head suddenly popped up and he started to growl under his breath.

Me: What is it?
Atlas: Is noise.
Me: What kind of noise?!

And with that, he started barking and took off downstairs, leaving me alone in bed. At this point, I was more fed up than panicked, and I grabbed the bat again on the premise that, if there WAS someone in the house, I was going to beat them senseless for ruining a perfectly good first morning of retirement. When I got downstairs, Atlas was staring out the window at a squirrel. “You know I’m retired, right?!” I asked him, but he was too intent on the squirrel to care.

The Middle

I took a load of antiques to my booth, then spent some time wiping my company phone, deleting any files that didn’t need to be moved into a shared drive, and signed out of my work computer for the last time. It seemed a little anti-climactic, so I decided to make a ceremony out of it by wheeling my office chair out of the house and putting it at the side of the road. Then I realized that I was kind of boxed in, and spent the next twenty minutes rearranging furniture to maneuver the chair through the living room. By the time I’d finished the whole exercise, I was exhausted and just sat in the chair next to a hydro pole drinking Prosecco and yelling, “I’m retired!” at the neighbours.

The End

Ken was out AGAIN ballooning, so I made dinner for myself and opened a bottle of wine. I turned around to grab a stopper when the bottle hit the counter, fell out of my hand and onto the floor, sending shards of glass and white wine everywhere and freaking me completely out because I HATE broken glass. I was right in the middle of cleaning it up when Ken messaged me to see what I was doing:

(Transcript

Me: I just dropped an entire bottle of wine on the floor and it broke everywhere. Glass is everywhere (crying face emoji). I am very unhappy and also afraid of glass.
Ken: Come to pub for wings.
Me: I am cleaning up glass. Next time (smile emoji). When things aren’t so glassy.)

I finally got everything clean and dry, much to Atlas’s relief, since I’d locked him out of the kitchen.

Atlas: I come in and help clean.
Me: Not a chance. I’ve taken glass out of your mouth before, you dummy.
Atlas: But wine.
Me: But wine, indeed.

Later, we were in the kitchen when Ken yelped.

Ken: What the hell! I just stepped on a piece of glass!
Me: I did the best I could! I was all by myself, Mr. BALLOONMAN! I AM retired, you know! When is this going to get FUN??!!
Ken: Are you missing work?
Me (sighs): Yeah.

Epilogue

It’s been three days. I guess I’ll get used to it. Cheers.

63 thoughts on “Raise A Glass

  1. I’m thinking the daily routine of waking, getting ready for work and then going through the motions of your daily life are now not the same. Your retired, you need a new routine to get use to your retired life. You haven’t found a rhythm just yet, but not to worry you will soon. And I’m sure Atlas will help, and of course there is wine during the day!! 🍷🍷🍷

    Liked by 4 people

  2. It will take some getting used to, Suzanne. My husband is giving up on retirement and going back to work in November. He says retirement is too hectic. Lol. I hope you find your new groove. Have you been able to sleep in yet?

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I hear Amazon is looking for balloonists to perform air-drop delivery…
    “Your package is here.”
    “Where?”
    “Look up. Bombs away.”

    One would hope that bottles of wine are encased in Styrofoam, or at least slowly lowered in hemp-nets.
    “I ordered this last week.”
    “The winds were unfavorable for delivery.”
    “Are you always going to be this slow?”
    “For you, we’ll dial up a tempest.”
    “What are you insinuating?”
    Thump.
    “There some cheese to go with that whine.”

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I dropped an unopened bottle of red wine on my floor taking it from kitchen shelf to living room area to store and since I’m the bottom floor in an apartment building the floor is basically cement.  My grandkids came over to help clean it up but it shattered everywhere even under the pullout couch which I can’t even try to move.  Worst disaster I’ve had.  

    Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPhone

    Liked by 2 people

  5. I once was cleaning my military quarters. Moving out as part of my transfer back to the U.S. Getting ready for inspection. Was just finishing. I had a bottle of port in one hand and a full garbage bag in the other. The garbage bag broke, releasing, among other things, pipe and cigar ashes. I swung around in reaction. Lost the bottle of port. It shattered on the ground, spreading port all over the garbage. All over the clean tile floor. Do you know how sticky port is? Do you know how smelly cigar ashes are? The inspector arrived about two minutes later. Looked around and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Signed off the quarters.

    Hope your retirement gets better. Sure it will. Have some wine. It helps. Just don’t drop it. Cheers

    Liked by 3 people

  6. I don’t know, drinking Prosecco and yelling, I’m retired at the neighbours sounds pretty damn amazing to me. I’m adding that to my first day of retirement to-do list. 😂 Sorry about the wine bottle, I did that once with a full bottle of olive oil – it was a nightmare!

    Liked by 2 people

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