A Tantalizing Glimpse of Our Lives a Decade From Now

Husband had a minor surgical procedure yesterday that required sedation so in the interest of keeping him from signing any contracts during the 24-hour clearing-the-drugs-out-of-the-system period, and because I have accumulated enough sick leave that I stopped accruing more hours a couple of years ago (she said, thankful for good health) I spent the day in the House on the Corner with him.

(Alas, we were not joined by the penguin in the picture, which is a sticker I plopped onto the photo because I thought it was cuter than the tangle of cable cords that are there in real life.)

The day turned out to be lovely, a series of old Cheers episodes on Netflix, interrupted by naps and an occasional "Oh, how are you doing?" when I remembered my role as nurse.

However, because Husband seemed to be doing fine--thank you improved anesthetics for not having the nasty side effects they had not so long ago--I spent a few moments reflecting that I made the right choice when I decided to not become a nurse. I tend to not have as much patience for the unwell as I should. I mean, my sympathy was obviously gone when I rolled my eyes so hard at the sight of a casserole soaking in the sink.

I've noted before that to my mind soaking dishes is the exact same as writing a note that says "Hey there! I can't be bothered to swish this out, so please do it for me! Thx!" And what had the casserole contained that made it so difficult to clean that it required soaking? Jell-O. So I went downtown and got a pedicure.

Last night as we ate a leisurely supper and discussed world affairs over my cup of coffee rather than dashing off to a meeting or heading back to the office, Husband had a good question.

Is this what retirement is going to be like? he asked.

I hope so. I sincerely hope so, except for the Jell-O bowl.