Retirement–Day 4–Relapse

OK, are you sitting down? I had a relapse yesterday, but the way I figger, all was not lost. Let me explain.

Everyone had scattered, the house was eerily quiet. With my current mental state, it’s probably not wise to leave me alone. They may later need to reevaluate their behavior.

While the hubby prepared my greenhouse Woman Cave, the kids flew the coop, had things to do (at least that’s what they said). I had all kinds of time on my hands, and it was only Saturday. Hmmm. What does a newly retired dental hygienist do?

In my mental state at the time, I saw these as my options:

  1. Clean the kitchen
  2. Clean the garage
  3. Clean the fridge
  4. Clean the car
  5. Do the laundry
  6. Bake

I had no choice. I bee-lined so fast for the chocolate chips I’d hidden in the pantry I hit my head on the shelf. “Did anyone see that?” I wondered, and knew probably just Annoying Arny, my often-excitable neighbor. He’d probably cleaned his binoculars again. No phone calls. Coast was clear.

“Calm down!” I told Inner Martha, “Take it easy!” See, Inner Martha has been threatening to surface, and Retired Karen is not ready for all that cleanliness, and neatness, and probably Godliness. Not yet. (Fine! Maybe not ever).

My day had started out with the best of intentions. The hubby had bought the seed packets, so what could I do? What was my part?

  1. Keep up appearances. Spread them out, look interested. State aloud my preferences. Oooh and aaah over the multitude of colors and varieties, comment on the lettuce. I’ve heard that vegetables are healthy. I nodded solemnly, marveled very loudly over the upcoming joy of planting, lettuce packet in hand.
  2. Make sure he knows how serious I am. That pack of Lupine did not start out next to the Marigolds, it was way over by the lettuce in the beginning. Let him see that I study my packets, read up on best times to plant, best soil mixes. I nodded again, for emphasis.

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Then she hit, Inner Martha showed up. Damn her. She had me baking, cookies of all things. And, not just any cookie.These are my Double Trouble Bet-You-Can’t-Eat-Just-20 Cocoa Chippers, my children’s favorites (and mine, but I’m sure that had nothing to do with my behavior).

Time for a snack, so I grabbed 30 10 or 15 cookies and sat down at the table, of course, near theΒ  packets. While rearranging the packets in case my husband came in, I started thinking.

I’ve been wanting to formulate a health plan. As a newly retired person, one of my goals is to get high achieve a higher state of health (I started a list of IOHs–items of health–to be stocked in said greenhouse Woman Cave. Check it out and let me know if you think I need to add anything.)

But this? Has Inner Martha been hitting the sauce? Baking on day 4? (Personally, I think something is wrong with her. Studies have shown that too much organization has deleterious side effects).

Look what happened. Inner Martha is completely out of control:

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I was petrified, I mean, hell, this cannot be good. This is too much evidence! It needs to disappear. And, fast.

So, what did I do? I had to act quickly. They would be coming back any time. My brain went on overdrive. Then it hit. You know the phrase Eat and Run?

I carefully made a bowl shape out of the front of my sweatshirt–yeah, right; Back off, Inner Martha!–I dumped the cookies and ran. I am almost fairly certain that none went into my mouth.

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See the distance between the bottom of this picture and the white love seat? It’s about 40 feet. I took off. I ran like the wind, back and forth, side to side, opening cupboards, pulling out drawers, trying to find places for midnight snacks to dispose of the evidence.

Then I heard a siren and noticed that my husband was outside talking to some guy in a blue suit next to a shiny car, and Annoying Arny, but I’m sure that had nothing to do with me and my new indoor running for health regimen.

THAT’S IT, RUNNING TO HIDE EVIDENCE FOR HEALTH. I’ve heard that exercise is healthy, so all was not lost. I can move my caboose when I absolutely must run for health. It ain’t pretty, but I can try.

Aftermath assessment:

  1. Should Inner Martha keep behaving badly, remember there are places indoors to hide the evidence keep up appearances run for health.
  2. Since I haven’t yet been convicted of diabetes, I can have over 20 some one or two cookies every three hours now and then.
  3. Keep sneakers on my feet 24/7 in case I need to BAKE RUN TO THE PANTRY FOR HEALTH.
  4. Scatter seed packets throughout the house, be ready for planting conversation.
  5. Practice the solemn nod.

I feel better already.

10 thoughts on “Retirement–Day 4–Relapse

  • Now you see I’m sat in bed ready to go to sleep but having a quick ‘blogging catch up’ with laptop on my knee and now poor Bryan wonders why I’m snorting and crying at the same time.. He says my ‘snoring’ is preferable! It’s a good job I don’t live next door to you Karenlee (or is it Martha) – you would be a VERY bad influence and I’d have absolutely no chance of getting rid of this ‘bl**dy’ diabetes! … Well actually I probably would because you would’ve eaten (oh no sorry…hidden) all the biscuits wouldn’t you? xx

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