Wednesday, July 4, 2007

instead of working

My husband refers to me as his "semi-retired" wife. I took the summer off.

For the second time.

The first time turned out to be a nightmare as the 401K that I hoped to have cashed out and was told all was a go in April before I quit being employed by a pompous liar with a Napoleon complex in May, now actually turned out to not be happening until September. I got the check at 2pm on December 31.

I scrambled though several part time jobs, one of which was working for the Wellfleet Beachcomber managing their retail inventory. Yessiree, I do know my way around an Excel spreadsheet and it makes my little Virgo heart happy to instill order on chaos.

In desperation, I took a full-time job in August which turned out to be more horrible than the French Revolution. Napoleon was now a paranoid Scorpio woman with control issues. I bided my time and took their money and tried not to cry before going to work.

I quit in May. I told them I was moving but I neglected to mention when. Now armed with a full bank account and no debt, I was prepared to do as little as possible. I am accomplishing this with aplomb.

I work for the Wellfleet Beachcomber 2 1/2 days a week. I sometimes work for Sumptuous Foods Catering. I go to the beach. I have read six trashy 500+ page novels in two weeks. Really trashy. The Library Ladies are so disproving that I have to wear my sunglasses and hat when I go pick them up and then furtively scurry away hoping that the new Ladies won't remember my face and point in horror when they see me in the grocery store.

I've played croquet on a Monday morning with friends and made new ones. I've played with the cats all day (which really pissed them off when they were sleeping). I go out to lunch with friends. Sometimes I nap. I go to yoga and ball class several mornings a week. I even stay up until 11 because I can.

I have not packed. Anything.

Have I mentioned that we are moving? To Colorado. In August.

Of this year.

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