Sorry I've been away so much lately. Maybe this post will explain some of it. Do you think having time on your hands isn't always a good thing, or then perhaps it is. Yesterday I was mulling over, for I don't know how many times, when I can retire. I mean really retire.

I've tried to a few times, which my coworkers must have been convinced of. So far I've had three going away parties, one of which was a huge surprise, but something is wrong with this celebrating, because I'm still working.

The other day, I was feeling the edge of Autumn nudging me toward what will soon follow: coming home on icy, snowbanked roads at midnight or later. Crawling into the car on the passenger side because the door lock froze. Working myself into a nervous fit, worrying if the battery will die, and just plain dreading driving those miles again, not to mention the cost of it.

That's what whirled around and around inside me. So for I don't know how many times, I got out the budget book, and figured dollars and cents again, and wrote it on a sticky note, and put it in front of me. To make sure my numbers were exactly right, I drove to the bank and checked them out. Before going inside, I stayed in the car a moment, and talked it over with God. I said "Dear Lord, if I manage money better, cutting back some here and there, I think this might work, and with your help, it will be alright". Then I hurried inside, and the dollar signs were fine. I can't tell you the freedom I felt as I walked back to the car.

If anyone had seen me close up, muttering to myself, I might be put on the dementia unit, instead of working it. This would be for real, this time for sure, I would retire. The drive home felt like I was in the air. No more halfway doing this, and no more making those long scary drives. It was one of those moments you know you'll never forget, and would love telling somebody, but you're so happy, the words wouldn't make sense.

That's how I was feeling when I walked into the house, threw my purse on a chair, and checked for phone messages. "Judith, this is Director of Nursing --------- at ---------- I've checked your work application, and we have some openings. Please call me so we can set a time for you to come in".

That's how my fourth attempt to retire went up in thin air, like the Magic Dragon, and disappeared. But this one will be hard to ignore. If I get this job it will be only three miles from home.

Life and work will come and sometimes pass us by, but that one brief shining moment, it is mine all mine.