I am not asking for sympathy here. The luxury of retirement is not available to many people at my age, and I awake every day profoundly grateful for my second act, and if working several shifts at the polling place disrupts the current rhythm of my lifestyle, it’s temporary and is actually a nice way to interact with new and interesting people I will see again in the future.
(Case in point: I made a commitment today to one of my co-workers to get a membership to the Pearland Recreation Center and start playing pickleball at - gulp - 7:00 a.m. This illustrates how my friendship network grows: I meet and befriend five or six people at the polling precinct, and then one of my new friends connects me to a whole new set of friends on the pickleball court. You just have to say yes to new opportunities, even at -gulp- 7:00 a.m.)
I’m just saying that I’d forgotten how a normal workday compresses the rest of your free time. I was up at 7:00 this morning, quick shower and trip to the donut shop for donuts and kolaches (another secret to making friends), then at the polling place by 7:45. Work, work, work until 1:00, lunch by myself at the nearby BBQ restaurant, then work, work, work until precisely 5:00. Then a stop at the dry cleaner to pick up the suit I’m wearing to an event on Friday, home to let the dogs out and then feed them dinner, then off to my mother’s house for dinner (country ribs braised in sauerkraut, mixed vegetables, and sweet potato fries), before coming home at about 8:00.
Compare today’s schedule to my normal Wednesday, which would have included a long walk, a workout, a couple of errands, and some light housework, before making something to bring to my mother’s house for dinner. Objectively better and more leisurely time, albeit unpaid and a little less productive for society.
And of course, I still have books to write, cases to work on, and regularly scheduled events to attend.
One of my precinct co-workers asked me today if I missed working at the DA’s office. I said what I always say - “Heck no!”- but today it was less of an abstract answer and more informed by the fact that I was actually working on a job for the day. I am all of a sudden realizing that I have so much else going on now that I really don’t think I could fit in a regular job anymore.
And I don’t miss the institutional stress. Not one bit.
So, to sum up, cosplaying as a regular worker has reminded me to count my blessings. I am, in so many ways, an extraordinarily lucky person.
____________________________
I am almost done with April 1865, and it has been a better book than expected. Today, the book covered the circumstances leading to Lee’s surrender to Grant at Appomattox, including Lee’s remarkably patriotic decision not to disperse his army into the woods to conduct a guerrilla campaign against the North, which would have extended the war for many years and done horrible damage to the prospects of reconciliation. Don’t take this as an endorsement of Lee’s decision to throw in with the Confederacy - it was a terrible decision that significantly improved the South’s military prospects, which in turn caused many more deaths than would have been sustained if he had accepted Lincoln’s offer to command the North’s forces (true story!) - but you have to respect Lee’s sense of honor and desire to end pointless bloodshed.
The book then details Lincoln’s assassination, which is still heartbreaking 160 years later. He was so close - so close! - to the retirement he deserved after the years of stress, depression, and anxiety he endured, and a narcissistic assassin just stole it from him. His martyrdom enshrined him as the best and most loved president in American history, but I wish he had gotten to see the Holy Land, as he so hoped to do in his dotage.
This is what a good book does - it evokes in your core a sense of empathy for real (or fictional) people about whom you would otherwise not think twice.
I am just starting the concluding section, which is about the disastrous ascension of Andrew Johnson to power. The book will probably argue that Johnson was the worst president in American history, which I would have agreed with … until now. Someday, someone will write a book about the present day that my great-grandchildren will read, and they will wonder how we lived through the tenure of the worst president in American history. History repeats itself.
______________________________
Tomorrow: no work! A long walk, some exercise, new dress shoes, and some IT work for my mother. Back to my status quo before another day at the polling place on Friday. So much to do, so little time!
No comments:
Post a Comment