The other day, I decided that perhaps the only way I might be able to make myself retire would be if I got rid of some of my work paraphernalia. This coincides with my partner’s and my upcoming move, which is now just a terrifyingly short 12 days away.
First, since our new place is much smaller than where we live now, I will no longer have a separate space for my office. Instead, we’re combining work space for me with a spare room (brand new queen size pullout couch coming very soon), which will also serve as a kind of den/TV room. This space opens off the main living area, so I will lose some of the privacy I presently enjoy, tucked away in my office upstairs.
Perhaps working in a multi-purpose room will make it harder for me to work all the time, but I’m taking other steps as well.
Over the past couple of months, my office chair has begun to fail me– it now steadily lowers itself when I sit in it, meaning I often disappear from view during long Zoom meetings – so it’s headed out to the curb.
The folks who are buying our house want my four-drawer filing cabinet. I am replacing it with a two-drawer model on the theory that if I have less space to store my work, I will work less. In a similar vein, my desk, which has stood me in good stead for a couple of decades, has been dismantled preparatory to being taken to Habitat for Humanity.
Our cat seemed quite perturbed as she oversaw the dismantling process (no doubt, at least in part because a bag of kitty treats usually resides in one of the drawers), but I felt only a sense of possible freedom. Perhaps my new work space – a table, with no drawers – will entice me to use it for purposes other than work. The cat treats will just have to find a new home.
Getting settled
The first few weeks of getting settled in our new place will provide ample opportunities to work less. I have no doubt that I will find myself wandering into the living room to soak up the light pouring in from the floor to ceiling windows and abandoning my work table in favour of a chore in the kitchen, since I won’t have to make my aging knees go down a flight to stairs to get there.
Of course, there will be the unpacking and reorganizing and discussing which art should go where. Maybe we’ll start playing ping pong in the games room, or using the exercise equipment or swimming in one of the two (albeit small) pools.
I’ve never lived in an apartment building, so I may spend a few days riding up and down in the elevator just because it’s there. There’s a garbage chute on our floor which I’ll need to try out and new neighbours to meet.
Longer term plans
Obviously, our move alone is not a long-term retirement strategy, so I’ve made some other plans.
I’ve blocked Mondays as non-work days (with a couple of exceptions) and am taking two classes at the seniors centre. First, I have a gentle yoga class. Happily for me, there are just four of us, so I don’t face public humiliation as I struggle to get down to and up from my yoga mat. Thus far, my body is enjoying the stretching and movement, and my soul appreciates the hour of focused quiet and contemplation.
After yoga, I move on to a Swedish weaving class, which is proving to be a lot of fun. I feel a bit as though I am in a ladies’ sewing circle, with the 11 of us sitting around a big table sharing scissors, needles, skills and lots of chatter and laughter as we learn the ins and outs of this (potentially) beautiful craft. We’re each making a placement – so far, my lines are even and I’ve only had to pull out my stitches a couple of times, so I’m off to a good start.
Our office/spare room/den will provide enough space for me to – finally – set up the sewing machine a friend gave me two years ago and really and truly start sewing again.
I have retirement activities galore in my future, not least of which is more line dancing, wearing the world’s most sensational cowboy boots, found for me by my daughter and her partner.
Look out for me on a dance floor near you!