Just Say No!

  I'm not the R&R type as anyone who knows me well realizes pretty quickly. I hate to sit around. At the last family gathering, I was antsy before we even arrived. I wanted to know what we would be doing. The bossband explained patiently that most of the family enjoys sitting around and reminiscing and talking to each other -- for hours on end. How is that possible? Well,  I wouldn't let up. I wanted to go to the mall, at least. I was dependent on someone to drive me there. I finally got my way -- even inspired a couple of other relatives to leave the house. (BTW, I found a fabulous sweater at Free People.)
  So when I retired a few months ago, I clearly was not going to really lead a life of retirement, as in rest. I immediately signed up for everything -- neighborhood board,  school PTA, freelance assignments. Ask, and I shall say yes was my motto.
  Until this month. When my editor at the Inquirer sent me an email with a cool assignment, I knew I had to force myself to say the word: No. It was like a drug addict turning down a hit. But I'm now working -- both for pay and not -- so much, that the resident teen constantly reminds me that I'm supposed to be retired. I'm staying up way too late. I'm missing my exercise classes. I haven't been to the mall in forever. Which might be a good thing, in a certain person's opinion. And, of course, the last time I blogged, it was another season.
  So I had to do it. I said no to the assignment, explaining I couldn't take on anything new til October. It felt good, after the initial shock of turning down something that I would have liked to do. I don't like to miss out on things. But I'm headed right back to Stressville. So as soon as I finish the 2,000 word magazine story on an Updike friend, and the marketing view book for a university, and the newsletter for school, and the lawn check for the neighborhood, I plan to take a break, as I told my mother-in-law recently.
  "How long?" she wondered.
  I quickly answered: "For a week." Seven days of nothing (whatever will I do with myself?), and I'll be ready to go, go, go.