Counting Down The Hours

When I was graduating from high school, I had this absurd friend who kept a count of the hours until. I kind of found it irritating. But that's what I'm doing now. I have 23 business days until I retire. That is having subtracted all weekend days and vacation days that I have left. Multiply that by 8 and it's 184. Multiply it by my salary and it's blah blah blah that I'm not sharing with anyone. Believe me it's not a great deal more money that I'm capable of earning. As ready as I am to walk out the door, I'm terrified. But I really need to walk out the door.

I've already bought a plane ticket to go see Mollie. I will stay with her for a few days to help her move, then I have another ticket to go to Seattle. I bought them because I was sent an offer for great ticket prices. I don't fly very much and only once since 9/11. Plus I have the port and the defibrillator and hearing aids to go along with a bag full of medicine. I'm not sure what to expect. It's causing more anxiety than it should. I just want to be happy and excited about this. And I am, but still the unknown makes me feel edgy and uncertain.

I have a mammogram on Friday and will see my oncologist for the last time. I will say goodbye. And I will make one more appointment with my primary care doctor mostly just to say goodbye to him. I do not have doctors lined up in Washington, but that will all come as it will. I'm not going to fret about it.

My days here are coming to a close. I'm excited, and I'm terrified.