It's over. I'm through. I walked away for the last time.
Hubby, pointing to the dogs, on picking me up from school: Should we take the boys home and I'll treat you to dinner? Or do you just want to follow through on my plan and get Gates barbecue and we go home and take a nap?
Me: The nap sounds really good. I'd like the nap. A long nap. This nap might actually extend into tomorrow.
We got the "beef on a bun" platter for two and came home and shared with the boys. I took off my clothes and put on my nightgown. I read the daily paper on the Kindle. I read my email and Facebook messages.
I looked at the bathroom and thought: tomorrow I can clean this mess up. Or not. Maybe not. At least not tomorrow -- after all it will be my 66th birthday. Maybe it's unlucky to clean the bathroom on your 66th birthday. So, yeah, probably not.
Tomorrow I can plan to hang up the seven (YES! seven) certificates I received to commemorate my retirement. NOT! Why in the world do organizations think you WANT plaques and certificates when you retire? Nobody wants these things on their living room / den walls. Plaques and framed certificates go in offices -- and we just QUIT working in offices. Crazy. My last week of work was truly nuts, in more ways than being gifted with SEVEN big plaques and framed certificates.
It really is over. I kept the faith (in my own idiosyncratic way) -- and it finally paid off. It still feels so unreal.