God's Waiting Room

I thought I had checked all the retirement boxes but nobody had mentioned a pandemic. So I find myself with a compacted schedule - busy mornings until 10 AM and long afternoons in the rain with no purpose. At least in Moldova, the afternoons and evenings were filled with new classes every hour. I tried to read everything on the internet dealing with international travel but it changes on a daily basis and country by country, so it seems that the adventure is just getting to your destination and back home. And now we have concern over the Omicron variant. I looked into local organized charities but their volunteer programs have been suspended. Now I feel the meter running and I am in a waiting room watching the clock. I hope He is running late!
Time to revisit some of these boxes and the decisions.
Don’t bother with an internet search. Those offering non-financial advice are all young (40s and 50s) and it is like asking a priest to discuss the best methods he learned from the Kama Sutra. The most frequent word they used was “meditation”. I call it afternoons.
I still have a purposeful activity but it is only the first 3 hours in the morning. An activity would be learning a skill and the purpose is to use this new skill to do something of lasting value. An activity that I do daily is Russian lessons, but, until I can get on an airplane, there is no one I can talk to. The students are amused at my attempts to talk to them in Russian but they are on Zoom for English class. I am rethinking my English-lesson videos and trying to make them easier but still interesting, so this is on hold. I tried to improve my cooking skills, but this just gave me more pots to clean. And there are few recipes for just one gourmand, so I get to eat the mistakes for 2 days. Therefore, I need to re-visit this purposeful activity box.
I am doing the “health maintenance” at least every second day but maybe it is time to embarrass myself in a yoga class with the youngsters. I found that I expire a large amount of vapor when I pant on a treadmill and so wearing a face mask is like water boarding. I don’t believe Yoga is anaerobic so I should not be panting. However, I refuse to wear Spandex so the first step is to find out if I can wear my sweats to class.
I expected my network of friends to get much smaller after retirement but, leave the country for three years, and they vanish. Throw in the variable of social distancing and it becomes telephone conversations. My social network is now young kids and young adults in a virtual space called Zoom. But I like their energy and positivity. However, I feel like a wise, old counselor because I have been there and done that and all I can share are the consequences of my not so bright moments. I keep positive with them and keep telling them they are doing fine; and I keep reminding myself that they were paying my pension. I wonder about my poor credibility with them because they can’t imagine themselves in my situation. But this is my new identity.
So, here I am, cooling my heels in the waiting room, hoping he will cancel my appointment.
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