On the days when I wake up and my eyelids won’t accordion-fold open into their prescribed slots properly, I know I’m in for a day of jamming square pegs into round holes. A day where anything that requires the technology and good fortune of an accurate twist or a fold upon itself in order to function will be completely off.
I will coax my eyelids onward in their upward momentum on these mornings, causing my eyebrows to also lift with the effort until both lids lock somehow into place. I reach for the eyedrops from my bedside table and hoist them above my face in an effort to reach the target of my first eye. Even though I’m looking directly at the little bottle’s little funnel opening, I miss and the liquid drips down my cheek. Two tries later it’s a bull’s eye, so I move onto the second eye and begin the process again.
By the time I’m trying to start twisting the thread properly when returning the lid to the strawberry jam jar, I have already battled a myriad of morning foes. From sliding slippers onto the appropriate matched foot without falling over to stepping down the short flight of stairs into the kitchen without falling to finding the coffee’s START button without falling. Okay, knock wood, I don’t usually fall. Unless I’m playing with the dog.
But it’s the jar that, in the end, really tries my patience. There is such intricacy with the requisite groove that allows the lid to work along the jar’s threaded top until it is closed straight and tight. You have to find that groove right from the get-go, too, because even a centimetre into the journey it becomes clear if the end result will truly be the accurate and fully aligned fit that it was engineered to be.
I will make two, possibly three, attempts before the jar is plunked back in the fridge – slanted lid and all. By now the coffee is done, though, which is the fortification needed to brace for the big winter coat. Don’t even get me started on zippers.
On these mornings, when faced with challenges I’ve never before confronted or even considered, I have been known to simply turn around and climb back into bed. The book on my bedside table doesn’t have an ON switch, it won’t stump me with tiny frustrating mechanisms, and it’s waiting for me right where I left off. Ah, this is what retirement is all about!
Visit Sandy’s website at LifeInRetirement.ca
