Seeking: One person of any age to teach older editor how to have a life.
Applicant must be patient and ability to repeat the same phrase over and over again: Go home.
Also, some minor hygiene advice appreciated. (Mr, Jackson, sauerkraut is not an aftershave.)
I left work at 5:10 p.m. today and sure it was my first day so it's hard to have an extensive to-do list. Yet I had a mild panic attack. What am I going to do tonight? How will I fill my time?
Sure, I could blog a little bit. That's about six minutes, apparent in the many typos I leave. I could eat but even with chewing everything thoroughly, that's about a half hour. I could read or write, my two passions, which is probably what I'm going to do.
But I think this leaving work is going to become a pattern and I must do something about it. First, it will be exercising and becoming more healthy. I'll have to find a gym for winters because ain't nothin' healthy about taking a walk at minus 20-degrees. (Side note to new life coach: Encourage me to buy gloves. I haven't had to have them in five years.) In the summer, though, opportunities abound in this beautiful area. Walking, hiking, running from bears. (Damn you, Brian Urlacher -- why must you pursue me?)
I'm going to immerse myself in local history. I'll volunteer. Certainly I will become an advocate homeless issues.
Then sometimes, when the sun is setting, I'm going to drink a decent Wisconsin beer (as though any could be indecent), watch the sun set over the pinery and do not a damn thing at all.
I still can't announce the job or the place yet and now I'm searching for something I haven't had in a while -- a permanent address.
I will continue to alert you, dear readers, as I finish these final steps.
Peace and thanks unto you my brothers and sisters.