Cloudy Blues

Today is one of those days everyone wishes they had more often … one of those therapeutic, do nothing, think nothing cloudy rainy days at home.

I dreamed of these kind of days when I worked in an office. My Facebook memories are filled with years’ worth of wishes I didn’t have to go to work, didn’t have to get up early in the morning, didn’t have to go to bed early so I could function the next day.

Now I have those days and every  now and then I wish I were back under the florescent lights of an office.

There was a comradery among the cubicles and warehouses of employment that existed outside our daily lives. We might not have known alot about everyone else’s lives, but from 7:30 to 4:00 we could commiserate about employers and workloads and vacations and achieve that strange, unusual bond co-workers have.

I have no one to commiserate with these days.

I have family and good friends, and I do get together with them as often as possible. I love them dearly and am so happy to have them in my life.

But it’s days like this, days that are cloudy and rainy and my other half is gone for a couple of days and the cats are climbing on everything and I’m trying to lose weight and stuff two pieces of toast in my mouth for breakfast that make me wish I had someone to complain to.

You know the kind of complaining I mean — the whiny, crabby, toddler sort of complaining that gets you nowhere but, given in small doses, make you feel better.

I am grateful I’ve made it long enough to enjoy my retirement. I wrote and dreamed for these days 10 years before it was even possible. I go for walks and shopping and do my crafts and clean and organize and read what I want when I want. I have earned that right, having worked 50+ years in this crazy world.

But as I sit at watch it rain while watching Downton Abbey, there are fleeting memories of sitting next to my work bestie laughing about the stack of pages we had to proofread before we hit the birthday treats in the lunch room. 

I miss those days.