Life in the Slow Lane

Aren’t you afraid of being bored they said?

Aren’t you afraid of being laughed at or worse, ignored?

But really, I had never worried what others said in the past.

I know me and jumping in with both feet was my standard.

Sure, I might be shaking inside but you would not have known.

The one thing I did worry about was, I would lose my identification.

You know, I was what I did at my work.

I was very proud of this, but little did I know,

I would now be free to build any other ID I chose.

So … I entered this new lane.

Here I am on the downward side of my seventh decade.

Bored … Nah not gonna happen.

But there are some things I hadn’t thought of.

Somehow it seems to me that I am not as visible as I always was.

Unfortunately, it was not due to weight loss.

At the bank, I am treated as if I’m slightly dimwitted.

Polite young tellers that have none of the life experiences I have,

Speak a little more loudly than needed, and ask.

Do you need your receipt for your folders?

I can’t resist saying, I need it to check you entered it correctly.

Does this mean that I have become a crotchety old lady?

Am I going to wear purple now?

How will my time be used?

How am I going to make it? I don’t even knit.

Should I give up? Nah … not gonna happen.

I start by refusing to disappear.

When I am shuffled along because I am asking too many questions.

I don’t leave the line until I get answers.

Do I care if I hold up that line?

Nah … Not in this lane.

Some are bored with the time they now have, but not me.

If I start something at 9:30 at night and it takes 4 hours because I’m “retired’.

It doesn’t matter, as I can choose to sleep until I wake.

But wait! I can’t sleep in. I have no time.

I need to meet the girls for our morning walk and coffee.

They say I won’t have structured time any longer.

Really? I like getting 15% off manicures on a Monday.

First-rate movies for $8 Thursdays and senior rates at the Drug store Tuesday.

Eating out, we have preferred prices for seniors if we go early.

My life is structured just the way I like it.

I no longer discuss ailments except with the girls.

People might assume that’s all I talk of.

But then they would miss that I plan to go to Rome next year.

No, not on a tour bus.

I will run a night time half marathon following the lights of Rome.

When people ask what I do, I now say I am a murder mystery writer.

They look at me and say, why murder mysteries?

I smile and say it’s based on my background and what I know.

Do I elaborate and tell them I was a poison information specialist?

Nah … not gonna happen!