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I’m Not Retired, I’m Sliding

By Diane Girard

Some women retire gracefully at their appointed day and hour, and some of us just slide along wondering what the heck happened. I'm a slider.

This summer was a slippery time. I turned 59, my contract job ended and I moved. I’ve been madly busy; looking for work; writing for an agency, getting to know a new city and wondering what possessed me to move to a place where I know only five people, and two of them are children.

Now, strange things are happening to me. I wake up at the very late hour of 8:30 a.m. (it used to be 6:00 a.m.) make my coffee, check my electronic mail, read the newspaper want ads and a book and suddenly – it’s noon. I can’t understand it.

Part of the blame for what happens to my day rests with that local den of iniquity – the public library. It is only a block and a half away. How can I resist its siren call? I’ve become a lurker. One of those people you see in libraries, sitting at the long tables reading the out-of-town newspapers and magazines and then – sneaking out quietly with bags full of books. There must be help available for this condition. I refer to these library hours as my research time, but no one believes me. They know I lust after the latest best selling novels.

Time also disappears at the local mall. I don’t visit the coffee shop every time. Just every other time. I’m worried the waitress will start saying, "do you want your regular dear." The possibility of a ‘dear’ salutation bothers me. I see myself as an older siren, mature, rounded, appealing, but the waitress seems to see someone else entirely. Perhaps if I wore a form fitting sweater and tighter jeans. But no, that way lies madness and ridicule.

The spectre of becoming a mall lady, the female version of the older men who wear gold chains, open shirts and bad toupees haunts me. It’s all research I say, research on consumer habits for an article I’m writing. But, no one believes me. They see the signs of addiction, the bagel crumbs and the frequent user coffee card.

There are other signs of the slide. I’ve seriously considered attending a fifty plus singles event. I was able to stop myself, this time. I’ve also given at least three minutes of thought to becoming a consultant, that last resort of the underemployed. I’ve even leafed through a Martha Stewart magazine but it fell from my hands. I was not worthy. I’ve written snail-mail letters to distant friends creating correspondence guilt and causing them to make expensive long-distance phone calls. Fortunately, my grandsons help me see the error of my ways. They say that I’m very smart and I look just the same as I always have. They don’t say that I look good, just that I look the same.

If you have experienced any of these signs of sliding you might want to join my Behaviour Justification Program which begins next week. I will not seek to modify your behaviour but rather to help you explain it to those who do not understand. The starting date may be slightly delayed; a new best seller just arrived.


Diane Girard is 59 years old and lives in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada near her family of a daughter and two grandsons. Diane began writing poetry and fiction in grade school and has continued to scribble for her own pleasure while earning a living in different ways. She has had several careers and is currently not considering becoming a consultant.

In the late 1960's, Diane worked in one of the first women's Information and Referral Centres in Canada. She also participated in consciousness-raising groups and duked it out on paper with a radical feminist leader who felt Diane should not be married. Diane returned to school part-time and became a Library Technician. There was no work in that field. She was sent to school by the government and became a bookkeeper. She disliked bookkeeping intensely. Diane worked for Bell Canada, the Law Reform Commission, a brokerage house and other employers to odious to mention before finding career happiness working with seniors. Diane sings in a local choir and is a classically trained pianist who now plays for her own amazement. She reads constantly and is addicted to poppy seed rolls and Tim Horton's coffee.

Flattering comments may be sent to her via e-mail at digirar@sprint.ca

 

©2002 Diane Girard for SeniorWomenWeb
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