Notes from Somewhere over the Rainbow...

"Billy is spastic in time, has no control over where he is going next, and the trips aren't necessarily fun. He is in a constant state of stage fright, he says, because he never knows what part of his life he is going to have to act in next." (23) Slaughterhouse 5

My former tekkie colleagues who have read this blog in the past know that I retired from my teaching job last June. My life has been somewhat "Billy Pilgrimesque" in that, now that I'm legitimately unemployed, I often have these time-travelling mental experiences of who I am and what I am doing with my time. Let me try to explain.

For 29.2 odd years of my life I've needed a mental front-end loader to get me up, get me dressed, and get me out the door to work. I'm not a morning person. This is how I've survived teaching until about noon each day. Now I can park the loader, but I'm more than a little lost without it. Often I get this overwhelming panic that I'm going to be late - and then realize "for what?"

I can walk pretty much where I need to just like I could in high school and university. Sometimes, en route, I revert to this pre-working self. I like her. I love being in Saskatoon with my feet on the ground that I've trodden all my life. The landscape alternately confirms and shatters my sense of where and who I am in time and space.

I have to say, one of the biggest reasons I liked teaching was for my creativity fix. Those adrenaline rushes were wonderful. Other than taking photos I haven't really found a substitute; the rush made the drudgery of the front-end loader life worthwhile. I love teaching and much of what it entails, but I don't have the energy to keep up with the grind. Creativity takes energy.

Am I old? Mentally I can feel 18 to 22 again, but physically my body tells me I'm not. I hurt. "I ache in the places where I used to play," as Leonard Cohen put so eloquently. I love listening to my iPod, but I worry about hearing loss. I'm a step-grandmother, but the kiddies aren't anywhere nearby for me to dote on. My hair hasn't even turned grey! I swallow pills, and I have to watch what I eat.

I'm sitting writing this post about the time I would have been starting work for 29.2 odd years. I'm fighting the urge to go back to bed. The sunshine and blue sky beckon me, and I know I'll have much more pep if I shower and get dressed. Maybe I'll finally make the NIA class at Lawson Civic Centre today...