Mar. 9th, 2025

flexagon: (work)
Audience: Well? Did she do it?
Narrator: She did.

Yep. I told my director last Monday that I'm retiring, and it took all week, but now there's a plan. ) Between fretting about my teams and the actual promotion cases I'm writing up, my brain is all jitter and whirr, and I haven't been sleeping super well most nights.

(Magnesium glycinate helps, as does THC, as do squirrel snuggles.)

I've done some pragmatic things like bring home a couple of personal items, cancel my union membership, and cancel future commuter benefits. And scheduled one last massage at the office, using massage points that would otherwise have vanished into the ether.

What else has happened? Um. Daylight Saving time. Hate losing an hour, love keeping some light in the sky a little later into the evening. Did a few minor things related to the house -- calling a plumber to fix the outdoor faucets before painting happens later in the month, and then a realtor to take their lockbox off the faucet before the plumber gets there. Also trying to get the neighbors to agree to take down some dead/dying trees, which I think we're getting close on. I suppose this sounds like a pain, but no, tweaking and improving the house is the fun part.

I've had tiny flashes of happiness, like when I'm walking to circus class listening to an audiobook and thinking how luxurious it is to not be rushed, and how that sort of thing can be the norm in the future if I want. But I haven't in any way set down the burden of feeling responsible for work stuff, yet.

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