Birthday Thoughts

Things about April 29 that are very important to me:

* It is my birthday. I have always liked having my own day.
* I am sharing it (unwillingly, I might add) with Prince William and Kate Middleton. I will always remember that it is their wedding anniversary. And I hope they take it to heart that it is MY day and that they need to tie the knot well, and permanently, because I will always remember. Always.
* It also is the date that I can officially take my social security. Which means I can kind of ignore the fact that I'm on disability and can now toss that negative term down the old life tube. I am no longer "disabled" - I am retired.
* I also share this day with my nephew - which is perfectly fine. I know where he lives and he'll honor me for the rest of his days.
* My son's birthday is the day after mine (he was due on my birthday but God knew how very important my own day was to me and He felt that my son deserved HIS own special day). He will honor me for the rest of his days.
* Please note - I celebrate my birthday for a whole month. I expect honor, respect, bowing, and courtseying. Consider me The Queen.

The Queen of the Universe has spoken.


The House

We went to an estate sale today and it happened again. I go into someone else's house and imagine if it were mine. I think this is because I live in a little tiny house that is not even big enough for me, let alone engine-lifting, car-moving Mechanic Man. This house had it all - it had the wrap around deck/patio. It had a two car garage. It had a shop that was two stories tall and big enough to probably work on ten cars all under cover PLUS a 20 foot windowed office. The kitchen looked over the back yard and patio (and shop, in case Mechanic Man got lost in there, and I could have an inkling of where to find him). (Note to self: need to plant GPS bug on Mechanic Man.)

Homemade soup was being made in the kitchen for the relatives having the sale. The cook kept going in and out while I was looking at stuff (like I need MORE stuff). I told her I was staying for lunch because there were so many people there, nobody would know a stranger was sitting down at the table. She laughed. But I was serious! Still, Mechanic Man took my hand and said, no, we had to go back to our little hovel and try not to step on each other.

I was envisioning whole rooms for different me's. A craft room (not that I am crafty but I AM working on a scrapbook with my dinner group). A music room where the piano is not covered with boxes that we haven't put in storage yet, because if this were MY house, all that stuff would be on the second floor of the massive shop. A library! (And then I could actually keep all those thousands of books that I don't want to give to Goodwill.) A guest bedroom complete with made bed. A second bathroom (a his bathroom and an everyone else bathroom and I'd only really pay attention to cleaning the second bathroom since the first "his" bathroom is hopeless and I don't want anybody else going in there. ever.) A walk-in pantry. A mud room. A computer room. Rooms! Many rooms!

So, here I sit on the couch, which is my reading room, computer (lap top being on my lap) room, tv room, and music room, even though the piano is covered with boxes.

Tomorrow we are going to more yard sales and estate sales and imaginary this-is-my-home sales.

.... And a laundry room.
.... And maybe a full basement.
.... A den?


Farewell To My Identity

I went through my closets and pulled out my prized possessions - several very expensive dress suits that I looked hot in and worked hot in. When I put one of these power suits on, it was like putting on armor. I grew. I flew. I was Power Jeanie, Secretary Extraordinaire. I swear that I could type faster, think sharper, and could toss the grammar book down the elevator shaft because my power suit was ON. People looked at me in awe - I was that good. A professional secretary with crisp lines, brain at snap attention, focus on the prize - a job well done by a super human machine.

I gave them away today to a sweet friend (thank you so much, Ginny) who will delegate them out to a women's transition group where women are stepping back in to the work force.

My very first reaction to watching my suits roll out the door was to sob! I think one of those suits was still wearing my heart on its sleeve. And then there was the huge relief of letting go of one more thing to make a decision about. It's done. I have one more task done. I need a personal coordinator. That brought another sob.

O boy - this business of cleaning house and paring down my stuff to a manageable small pile is just so emotional!

And I haven't even tried to tackle the prized possessions of thousands of books. All books I have read. All books I plan to read again. All mine, mine, mine. All real - no Kindle here. All made of paper and ink. All dog-eared and comfortable in my hands. All alive with characters and adventures and mysteries.



Do You Wear Your PJs to Work?

Recently I posted on Facebook that I was spending the afternoon in my PJs while I was doing the laundry (mainly because I needed to wash my favorite comfy jeans that I usually don’t relinquish very easily). A few people responded, and one noted that I’d be surprised how many places she wears her PJs. So, do you wear your PJs in unconventional places?

I have been able to go out in the summer in pretty PJ bottoms with flower prints, or Betty Boop, or Mickey Mouse, and pretty much go wherever I want – to the store, to the post office, for a walk – and nobody is any wiser. At least that is what I tell myself. Maybe people are whispering to each other about how loony I am to go out in public in my pajamas.

My next door neighbor, a man in his 70s, mows his lawn in his striped pajamas (tops and bottoms). He looks perfectly normal and at home. Because, well, he IS at home. But still.

We had a lady that came into dialysis at 6:00 in the morning in her pajamas. I envied her. Then I started coming in at the same time and found myself slipping slowly into the relaxed dress of slippers. Then pj bottoms. And so now there are two Pajama Ladies. I mean, who’s going to see us??? We’re half asleep anyway and if we are lucky, we’ll go back to sleep while we are sitting there and sleep through the whole thing and wake up three and a half hours later, fully rested, refreshed, cleansed, and refilled. Can’t get any better than that.

Friends were recently discussing their “pajama days” where they just putter around the house in their pj’s and bunny slippers, sipping coffee, eating sweet rolls, reading a book, and doing nothing all day long but enjoying their own company. Never dressing up like an adult. This is the life!!!

So, I’m on my way to Walmart (where I’m pretty sure the dress code is pajamas) to find myself a new pair, since I’m wearing out the one I love (and I need to have one to wear while I wash the other one). I’m planning a Pajama Day a week!