Peg Kerr's Journal

You know, I do my best to just live my life and be a brave little toaster, but this week, it's just felt like...a lot.

I need to get a new car. Mine is twenty-five years old and leaking coolant. And I don't know where or how to start. Will I be able to afford anything decent?

Pain continues. The physical therapist has ordered me to use a cane. I have to use it in my (non-dominant) left hand, the one with arthritis, and just manipulating it with that hand is difficult enough that I have to start using my arthritis brace on that hand again.

I've also been told to wear an IS brace, a velcro strap that goes around my hips. Weirdly enough, it gives me nausea. Constantly.

Medical appointments. So. Many. Medical. Appointments.

All of this makes it difficult to exercise. And I NEED to exercise. I got the results of my bone scan this week, and my osteopenia is continuing to get worse. I need to get into the gym and lift weights and I'm not doing so, and so I'm beating myself up about it.

The news. Need I say more?

Christmas is looming, and the thought of preparing for the holidays is daunting.

I'm about to retire, and I am struggling with uncertainty about what it is going to look like. (Will I have enough money is giving me constant low-grade anxiety)

Rob's 70th birthday was this past week.

Both of the girls have been sick and stressed. Delia's internship is about to end, and she doesn't know where she will find another job.

On Wednesday, I had to sit through a meeting that droned on for an hour and a half. I kept standing up and sitting down again. I was so obviously uncomfortable that my coworkers sent me home, and I spent the rest of the day with the covers literally pulled over my head.

I'm sorry. I'm complaining, and I truly don't like that. I don't feel depressed, exactly? But I don't feel at my best, shall we say.

Image description: Background: a light-filled doorway in a room with gray peeling paint. Superimposed over it: a semi-transparent image of a woman's face with eyes closed, strands of hair blowing over her eyes. Lower center: a statue with green patina of a woman, holding her hand to her forehead. Upper left corner: a dried leaf clings to a twig.

Melancholy



Click on the links to see the 2025, 2024, 2023, 2022 and 2021 52 Card Project galleries.

Last week was hot and humid, culminating in a blisteringly miserable weekend. I continued to cough and felt entirely disinclined to exercise or go to work. I parked myself for the weekend on the couch in a surly torpor, escaping into fanfiction.

I found myself lost in daydreams for much of the week. I have truly enjoyed my job, but I am going to be retiring in a few months, and that is taking up more and more of my mental space. I look at my portfolio and think about the switch from saving for years to starting to spend down my savings. I think about traveling. I think about starting to take classes, just for fun. I have a new grandchild. Two of my siblings have already retired, and another will also be retiring at the end of the year. I don't want to be the only one in my family still working.

I have always been a conscientious worker, to the point where my friends have frequently joked that my employers have taken advantage of my willingness to go above and beyond. But I am starting to check out mentally.

I am ready for my working life to be done.

Image description: A silhouette of a woman sits beside a window, her fingers parting the curtain to gaze out. Overlaid: a red hammock with a woman's feet sticking out. Lower right corner: a gold piggy bank.

Daydreaming About Retirement



Click on the links to see the 2025, 2024, 2023, 2022 and 2021 52 Card Project galleries.