The year my dad passed, 2000, he shared with me to "get use to stress it dogs us all." I felt sad that he was 77 and felt stress. What happened to the golden years?
I'll be 57 this May. I really don't have a lot to complain about. I get a retirement check, have insurance and owe less than my house could sell for. I have family, pets, purpose.
What I don't have is control over my life. Anyone reading this will say, Get in line. No one really has control. Not even the obstinate teenager being stubborn.
I care for family that I love. I long for a vacation from them.
I have a house that is a mess and I am disorganized by nature. It is going very slowly. I have someone who has helped me put up my fence.
I have an income. I had planned to work longer. When you are in your fifties, people don't want to hire you. I haven't tried very hard to be hired. I never had to work that hard to get a job. Plus, I was never stupid enough to casually quit a job. When they gave teacher contracts out each year, I stood and signed my contract then and there and turned it in. I didn't need the ten days to consider the issue. I needed the job.
Difficult neighbor. The fence should help. They want to shoot my dogs. This is the least of my concerns. I worry more about the neighbor "nutting up" with the gun he shoots when he knows I am outside. It is intimidating. I even realized he is not feeding his horses appropriately. They are losing weight. More than likely he is being a jerk to me and waiting for the grass to grow for his horses to have enough food. I keep the gas tank to the car full and carry my cell phone when I work outside.
In other words, I'm in a blue funk or have the black ass tonight. Well, it is the 14th, I have done our federal taxes. It's time to do the state taxes.
A mix of thoughts, experiences, flash fiction, poetry and humor of Ann Bennett.
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