Monday

Before I retired, I used to count the Mondays that were left in my life.  I started counting when there were four hundred of them, and my co-workers, who were at first amused and then quickly bored by the count, finally started joining in the fun when I got into the low ninety's. 

"How many Mondays till it's all Saturday?" they'd ask, and I'd give the newest tally.  The time passed fairly quickly, and before very long the four hundred Mondays I started with had dwindled to less than sixty.  That's when we got the news about Carolyn, and I realized I'd never make my original goal of retiring at age sixty-six.  I don't know what was so special about that age, we were secure enough to have retired at any time after our mid fifty's. 

Going to work everyday had been expected of me from the time I was in my early teens, and I had been told over and over during my whole life one works until he's sixty-five, and then he can retire.   Some A-hole, I can no longer remember who it was, (maybe Alan Greenspan?) changed that to age sixty-six when I was in my early fifty's and like a well behaved stupid twit, I believed him. 

Shame on me.  I've since come to understand most of the people who tell us to work all our lives want us to do it to support them.  Like the good sheep we are trained to be from the time we enter school until we die, we believe the teachers.  Anyway, back to the current topic, Mondays. 

Had I been able to reach my goal of four hundred Mondays before every day in my life was Saturday, my last Monday would have been on March, 7, 2011.  Well, our circumstances did not allow me to complete that goal and my official retirement date was December 31, 2010.  I left work long before that;  a combination of accrued but unused vacation and sick leave, along with an understanding boss who was appreciative of my years of effort and dedication, allowed me to forgo several months of Mondays. 

The actual date I quit going to work was October 26, 2010.  Now, if you just happen to have a calendar handy, you'll discover I owe someone, or something, exactly nineteen more Mondays to fulfill my commitment of four hundred, which was where I started the count.  I cheated the destiny I had determined, and loudly proclaimed to all my friends and co-workers for years, was mine.  I did not realize it, but when I retired, I still had nineteen more Mondays in my life.   

Well, today was Monday.  I'm not going into the gory details, but just believe me when I tell you that.  I now owe the universe eighteen more.  After that, every day will be Saturday. Whoever is in charge, please do not give an old man more than one a year.  They're terrible.