Senior Moment

I gotta admit, I never really thought it would happen to me.

I was in the doctor's office the other day, getting a bit of skin cancer cut out (PSA: Wear your sunscreen!), and the nurse was running down a standard list of dos and don'ts for the next couple of weeks, and then she said, "I'll call you tomorrow to make sure you're doing OK."

I was a bit surprised, so asked, "You make those calls on Saturdays?"

She gave me one of ...those... looks. "Tomorrow is Tuesday."

Hmph. I know between retirement and COVID time I may occasionally get a bit fuzzy on the day of the week, but this is the first time I've been flat wrong.

I knew it was Monday when I woke up that day. I knew it was Monday when I got my butt moving and to the doctor's office on time for the procedure. I have no frickin' clue why it was Friday in my head by the time I had that conversation. 

I'm not actually concerned for my memory (yet), and if one looks such things up on the internet, one quickly finds out things like this are a normal part of aging. But, still. At that moment, until she looked at me like I had two heads, I'd have sworn it was Friday. It's a lot disconcerting.

I suppose I could/should take it as a sign I'm finally settling into retired life. I mean, for the 40-ish years I was gainfully employed, I can promise you I NEVER ONCE confused a Monday with a Friday.

And, I gotta admit, I kind of miss it. Not the working part. But the part where I'd leave work on Friday savoring the coming two days of freedom; knowing I got to be the boss of me for the next two days.

*sigh* It's just not as fun when I'm my full-time boss.

At least I'm not alone in my dang-this-retirement-stuff-takes-practice boat. I was talking to someone this morning, and he is also finding it a challenge to transition from a life of doing to a life of being. (As he put it. I like his phrasing.)

I'll keep working on it. Whichever day of the week it happens to be.