And not too soon either!

I work three days a week and at times I think that even that is too much. Of course, I jest.

In all honesty, I don’t know why I didn’t just work part time for most of my life (then figured out a way to make some passive income or get married to some rich bloke ?) Regardless, a few years ago, I decided that there’s really nothing or no one forcing me to work full time. Besides, I’ve always enjoyed what I do outside of work hours far more than what I do within work hours so work could take it or leave it. (Although it was nice to get paid to fund the stuff I did outside of work).

I’m not someone who understands some people (those who obviously have the means) who say that if they retire or stop working, they’ll die because their work would have no meaning. I simply don’t get that. ?

(Of course, I have to clarify that this doesn’t mean those whose work actually gives them purpose such as those working for themselves; or those who aren’t afforded the opportunities to do this in their lives and struggle).

It reminds me of my old days in the Navy.

I used to I feel sorry for some of the older men – the old and bolds – the “old salts” as we used to call them – who were senior sailors or officers who had served hundreds of years in the service (it seemed that way to me).

They were the ones who didn’t have family (most were divorced) and they were living in the Wardroom (Navy Officers Mess) or the Senior Sailors Mess just biding their time until retirement. I had often wondered why they hadn’t used the opportunity to seek out other interests and friendships in local area. (My naivety of youth).

You’d see them there every single night at the Wardroom bar, weeknights and weekends, spinning the same ol’ warries to whoever would listen.

They’d see me walk past the bar to get to the dining room every night, hold up their drink and get me to join them.

“Ah there she is! The vision! (they were sexist back then), Lovely Helen, let me buy you a drink, and let me tell you the story of the time I was on <insert HMAS ship here>”. I’d roll my eyes, make some excuse and wander into the dining room, shaking my head knowingly at the junior sailor, the steward on duty who’d show me a place at the table where I could be left in peace to eat my dinner.

Until one night, the old salts weren’t at the bar. You’d hear through the grapevine they retired and soon after, they passed away. Their entire life spent in the Navy and felt at a loss or disconnected from their life and mates when they left.

Stories like that always made me sad and vow that I never made my work the be all and end all. Yes, you can spend your life at work, on work but why make it the entire point of your existence?

Whenever I think of people who are tied to their work, it’s a sad picture in my mind’s eye. I think of those workers in my corporate life who would be in the office cubicles early in the mornings, late at night, weekends and holidays. Their life was entirely made of memories about their work or projects.

Most of all, I picture a man in Red Sea Rig (the uniform we had to wear in the evenings for dinner which consists of black wool pants, white shirt sleeves shirt with epaulettes, black glossy dress shoes and black cumberbund) drowning his sorrows with a glass of beer in his hand. That’s the image that’s in my head because I saw so many people like that. I now know and understand in my later years that this may have been a call for help.

I digress again….

Next week is a public holiday in Melbourne so I took an extra two days annual leave which means I’m now effectively on leave until Monday 21 March.

I haven’t planned to go away as Andrew is busy at work at the moment (he makes it up for me as he works extraordinarily long hours and manages a big team) so he can’t afford to take any leave just yet. This means I’m invariably left to my own devices for long periods of time.

The only thing I’ve planned for this week is to return to the South Melbourne market and have a bit of a look-see. I had a win by inviting my parents (they finally said yes!) to come with me so we can enjoy a day out together. It would be the first time in two years that they’ll be out of the house and gone more than 5km radius. I think they’ll find it a shock but I’m looking forward to taking them out.

Other than that, I’m going to play it by ear.

Let the holiday begin.