I agreed to a voluntary separation. Just happens that I've been there long enough to also get some retirement benefits. But, I am NOT retiring. Not mentally. Not bodily. Certainly not financially.
This is NOT my park bench.
My story. My past, present and future. My identity. It's all, always, been about transforming my energies, my ideas, my thoughts and my desires into tangibles.
As a child I would sweep the porch for a nickle. I would take apart my toys to see what made them work. Then I would put them together again having both my new understanding and my proper toys. As a teen I turned dime store remnants into my wardrobe. In college I hung lights and ran the light board in the theater. I modeled. I read aloud. All to earn extra cash.
During ten years of marriage I followed my man from town to town as he followed his dreams. As we moved from town to town, I found a series of new jobs: Seamstress, Clerk, Apartment Complex Assistant Manager, Secretary, Telemarketer, Tupperware Sales, Avon Representative, Librarian, Order Entry and more.
Divorce was followed with an urgent effort to build a career. Thirty years of pushing myself to climb the infamous corporate ladder.
And now people want to call me retired. Well, I don't know how to put on the brakes. I'm ready to rock and roll. As Mama Cass once sang, I'm ready to make my own kind of music and sing my own special song. Time to dance as if no one is watching.
Divorce was followed with an urgent effort to build a career. Thirty years of pushing myself to climb the infamous corporate ladder.
And now people want to call me retired. Well, I don't know how to put on the brakes. I'm ready to rock and roll. As Mama Cass once sang, I'm ready to make my own kind of music and sing my own special song. Time to dance as if no one is watching.
