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It took me a while to notice the similarity, but it hit me the other day: my imminent retirement from the workforce is making me feel like a senior in high school.
I mean, when was the last time I had the wonderful sense that this penance, this lifetime of challenge and unavoidable drudgery, these ups and downs, these not-necessarily-desired formative experiences, were all about to come to a definitive end on a particular day? When was the last time I had a date with freedom?
1974, that's when. And back then, just as now, I decided to opt out at the first legitimate moment, without a backward glance. (In the case of high school, I tested out a semester early and fled.)
What's more, today I feel like a high school senior on spring break: I've got a week's excess vacation to burn starting Monday, and when I go back it's mostly just the October-November system patching period, then the holidays, then...
...then a whole new way of life.
I mean, when was the last time I had the wonderful sense that this penance, this lifetime of challenge and unavoidable drudgery, these ups and downs, these not-necessarily-desired formative experiences, were all about to come to a definitive end on a particular day? When was the last time I had a date with freedom?
1974, that's when. And back then, just as now, I decided to opt out at the first legitimate moment, without a backward glance. (In the case of high school, I tested out a semester early and fled.)
What's more, today I feel like a high school senior on spring break: I've got a week's excess vacation to burn starting Monday, and when I go back it's mostly just the October-November system patching period, then the holidays, then...
...then a whole new way of life.
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Retrospective
18/7/13 14:59I was just standing here eating broccoli when it occurred to me how odd both of those things are. I switched to a standing workstation a couple of months ago, and somewhere in the last year or two I've finally managed to make vegetables a part of my everyday life. I believe, but can't prove, that each of these changes has been good for my health.
So I got to wondering what else I've changed in the last few years.
( Turns out, quite a lot. )
So I got to wondering what else I've changed in the last few years.
( Turns out, quite a lot. )
An exercise of will
13/1/12 16:39I haven't taken yoga for a long time, and I expected my first foray this afternoon to be difficult-to-impossible, especially since the class was at a posh downtown studio where Real Yoga People go.
( It was, indeed, difficult-to-impossible. )
( It was, indeed, difficult-to-impossible. )
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How do you make a hormone?
24/10/11 10:27Hormones. Can't live without 'em, but look at this: getting 'em back reawakens the bitch within.
( Here's an interesting conundrum... )
( Here's an interesting conundrum... )
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Oh, you guys! Look what I got!
ravurian made them for me. I'm still trying to find a way to describe what they mean to me and what they've done for me, and in the meantime, behold the beauty:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
It was dry and very cold (23F/-5C) this morning, so I put on pretty much all my clothes, wrapped my face in a pashmina, stuffed my helmet on over that and a wool cap, put on three pairs of gloves, two pairs of socks and some furry-lined boots, and headed out on Eleanor.
Now, my newly insulated house (about which I cannot say too many great things!) is comfortable on an icy morning, so I wasn't pre-chilled before going out, and when I stepped out the back door bundled like the Michelin Tire Woman, I didn't feel a thing.
I brushed the ice crystals off Eleanor's saddle, broke the slight ice-seal on the left brake lever, tested for stopping and shifting power (all systems go--yay Dutch bike engineering), and set off.
After two blocks I was wishing I'd buttoned my cuffs a little more securely, but it wasn't bad. After about six blocks, I was sniffling and teary-eyed, and I could feel the chill through the airholes in my helmet. By the time I rounded the corner of 9th and Multnomah, the lack of fingertips on the third pair of gloves was beginning to tell on me.
I was sailing along Waterfront Park, my face-covering pashmina a bit damp with breath, when I had a hot flash.
LOL! Suddenly, I'm freeze-roasting. I honestly can't tell whether I'm too hot or too cold. Weirdest thing.
I'll say this, though: if you gotta have hot flashes, there are worse moments for them than outdoors on a 23-degree morning.
Now, my newly insulated house (about which I cannot say too many great things!) is comfortable on an icy morning, so I wasn't pre-chilled before going out, and when I stepped out the back door bundled like the Michelin Tire Woman, I didn't feel a thing.
I brushed the ice crystals off Eleanor's saddle, broke the slight ice-seal on the left brake lever, tested for stopping and shifting power (all systems go--yay Dutch bike engineering), and set off.
After two blocks I was wishing I'd buttoned my cuffs a little more securely, but it wasn't bad. After about six blocks, I was sniffling and teary-eyed, and I could feel the chill through the airholes in my helmet. By the time I rounded the corner of 9th and Multnomah, the lack of fingertips on the third pair of gloves was beginning to tell on me.
I was sailing along Waterfront Park, my face-covering pashmina a bit damp with breath, when I had a hot flash.
LOL! Suddenly, I'm freeze-roasting. I honestly can't tell whether I'm too hot or too cold. Weirdest thing.
I'll say this, though: if you gotta have hot flashes, there are worse moments for them than outdoors on a 23-degree morning.