Retired guyness

At that stage of retired guyness where I realize what we really need is a paper towel roll hanger that can adhere adhesively inside to one of the doors under the bathroom sink. I mentioned that to Fyl as I replaced the light bulb in the refrigerator. Sure, she said. Being that I already ordered adhesive hooks to hang the new brushes from the inside of the doors under the kitchen sink, she was not that surprised. It came to me as I was shaving off my latest retired guy trapped inside the house beard. Not that I wanted a beard. It just seem like a lot of work shaving it. Anyway, it’s gone now and the skin suddenly revealed is shiny and smooth and disturbingly metrosexual. Lack of sun combined with last year’s Covid Miracle Cure vitamin D supplements, I suppose. I still take it twice a day. Plus I cleared the slow draining bathroom sink with one of the new brushes while shaving. Multi-tasking. Tell me I’m not earning that social security check.

‘Twas the Night After Christmas

So I woke up on the couch at 4 a.m. and as I stumbled off to bed I noticed a kitchen completely untouched since dinner. Pots, pans, plates, leftovers, utensils up the wazoo. A spattered stove. Half dreaming it I washed everything, then dried everything, then put everything away. Then I sleepily cleaned up the stove and countertops. Did I mention the carefully wrapped leftovers in perfect stacks in the fridge and freezer? I got to bed at 6 a.m. This must be the retired life, clockless, unrestrained by civilized standards of time. And then oversleeping.