Joe and I were reviewing the next couple of weeks. I don't ever want to know what I'm doing months from now, that's Joe's worry, but I like to have a clear picture of the upcoming days. Joe was telling me about how we pick up a rental car next Wednesday and then keep it for a week and a half. Seems we do Summer School next week up in Peterborough and then on the weekend drive down to New York City were I am training some staff and then we hop in the car and drive back to Peterborogh and then, finally, go home.
We reviewed what I remembered about the topics chosen in New York City and what we need for handouts and equipment. Summer school next week and the week after would also have to be fully co-ordinated as we won't have time to get things done in between all the travel. Joe was driving so I made notes and by the time we got home we both knew what was coming and what was expected.
I got up into the apartment and spent an hour doing emails from work, reading reports and programmes and answering questions. Joe took the car back to Avis and then picked up some spinach on the way home. In amongst the other stuff, we'd planned to have veggie steak Caesar salad for supper.
Joe set right in to frying up the steak strips and I asked him a couple of questions while finishing off the email. By the time supper was done, so were we. We could relax and watch television without worry that something was undone, some part of the next two weeks unplanned.
Joe seemed a bit quiet so I asked him what he was thinking. He said, 'I thought we were supposed to be getting older, I thought you were supposed to be disabled. Aren't we supposed to be slowing down and getting doddery?'
I knew what he meant, sometimes it seems like we keep on doing what we've done since we were young men. 'That's coming,' I said. 'But the pace hasn't really changed,' he said.
'Joe,' I said, 'It's Friday evening. End of a work week. We are in our housecoats at 4:30 and we'll be in bed by 8:00. We haven't closed a bar in years. Last time we stayed up until 10 we paid for it for two days. If it wasn't for the news, we wouldn't listen to the radio. To us, Lady GaGa sounds like the name for an amateur porn star.'
Joe smiled and said, 'You've got a point there.'
Dave, I laughed so loudly just now that I startled the cat. Thanks for the giggle!
ReplyDeleteIt sneaks up slowly on us. But isn't it grand to have someone you love to share that journey, no matter what the pace?
ReplyDeleteJust so we're clear...I think Lady Gaga actually may be an amateur porn star! ;-) I was cutting pictures out of a magazines recently for a game to illustrate public vs. private in an upcoming Relationship and Sexuality Education class. I came upon said "lady" decked out in her underwear singing and I thought "How are the people in this class ever supposed to figure out what clothing is public and what is private given what rock stars wear on stage?" LOL
ReplyDeleteAh, yes. I thought that when my brood of children got to a certain age, my life would slow down too. True, I go to bed a bit earlier, and I can't pull those all-nighters anymore in an attempt to catch up, but life is just as full. I just traded one set of responsibilities for another... Maybe when we retire... (Retire? I'm on the Freedom 85 plan!)
ReplyDeleteYou may be getting old, but veggie steak and caesar salad is a mighty good dinner.
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