Working

I did a very easy 3 miler today, really just a chance to stretch the legs a bit after the race Saturday. I'm still a little sore and stiff, and I have sore muscles in places I'm not used to-thanks to those blasted sand dunes! But the soreness isn't much worse than I would expect after a really long run, so it's all good.

I've been thinking a lot lately about my years of working, perhaps because Hubby has gone back to work. Fear not, faithful readers-it's only a temporary gig, and he only accepted the job because they offered to pay him a ridiculous sum of money.

I've been retired for a little over 2 years, and I have no desire to go back to full time work. I did the same work for about 20 years-I was a clerk in the business office for an auto dealership. My specialty was DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles for those of you outside of California) and contracts; I did the payroll for the salesman and all sorts of accounting type of stuff. In other words, I was a cubicle monkey.

I came to realize that I no longer fit in at the office where I worked. My coworkers were all younger than me and just starting their work careers; this job was just a stepping stone to something better. The chatter in the office was about boyfriends and parties and I couldn't relate.

And perhaps more to the point, I grew to hate the work I did. This was new to me. I had always gained some satisfaction from my job. Yes, it was boring and tedious; the customers could be complete jerks and I hated answering the phone. No one called me unless they had a serious problem and needed someone to yell at. But even on a really bad day, I could go home feeling that I had done something worthwhile for the last 8 hours. Somehow during my last year of work I lost that ability to see the value of my job.

I knew it was time to quit after a really bad phone conversation with a customer who felt I should be able to process her license plates and registration in less than 1 week. All the polite explanations on my part only seemed to anger her more. She became abusive and I had enough. I told her I was transferring her to a manager and that really sent her over the top. I finally hung up on her-a first for me after 20 years of fielding customer phone calls. She had the hutzpah to call back, ask for my manager, and complain that I was the one that was foul and abusive. Then she called back 2 days later and asked for my last name and home address, because her attorney needed the information for the lawsuit! What BS. I transferred her to a manager without a comment on my part. I think it was that phone call more than anything else that compelled me to retire.

I've never regretted my decision to retire at the tender age of 50. People told me I would be bored; that I would go back to work for something to do; that I was retiring to young. Boredom has not been a problem-getting everything done-yeah, that's hard sometimes. But there's always tomorrow. People who are bored with retirement just aren't doing it properly.