Bitch of the Day

Aging is a funny thing. I’ve spent most of my life growing up or at least growing into the person I wanted to be. Unlike some people, I’ve never quite had full satisfaction with that, but still, consider myself a work in progress. Now my memory falters, my face is falling, and my joints ache.

A box of thank you letters and citations remind me that I’ve been a good person. Smiling photos speak of happy times with loved ones long gone. Being a caring, responsible adult required effort; being an asshole always seemed easier, but that wasn’t who I wanted to be.

Negativity and problems entered every day; I called it proof of life. Each morning my staff brought their personal problems to work; one woman’s son was on duty in Iraq, so who could blame her? Every morning I listened to one complaint; I called it the bitch of the day.

After hearing one complaint, we were required to focus on having fun with the dogs brought for day care. Did I tell you I loved my work? But the point is after getting it off my chest; I need to move on to the positive possibilities in this day.

As a retired person, I have the luxury of focusing my day on what I choose, thanks to Social Security.

A scientist, Carl Maslow wrote about a hierarchy of needs people had to have a fulfilled life. Food, water, and air are obviously the most basic needs. When those needs are met we get to explore who we are and what we want. When you work all day, who has time?

Most folks my age will attest to the problems we share in our golden years. Putting into our trust fund allows us to search for the gold in our lives.

What’s NOT funny about aging is having some greedy asshole mess with your trust fund, speaking of which I vote Congress give back what they borrowed with interest.

And that’s my bitch of the day. I’m going to the movies.