Tuesday, 14 March 2017

Eating out?

Oh dear...or words to that extent!
Today I am booked to go out to lunch. It is a pensioners lunch!
This day is one I've avoided for years....it's not that I don't want to admit to being an old woman....that has been obvious for some time...it's somehow an  admittance that I need to get out more!
Since the day a month ago when I realised that I hadn't been out of the house for a week and that I was in danger of living as a recluse, my life has suddenly become busy again.
And often not in a good way!
I can't now imagine how or why I agreed to go to this lunch...
I have searched my brain for good acceptable reasons for not going. They all involve several different white lies...so I can't do it but I am now cursing myself for agreeing to this in the first place!
One good reason for going is that it will combine the people from two villages.
The venue lies half way between both of the villages I have lived in....
I will know most but not all of the others.
I will not wear my dog collar.
If I go.
Lots of reasons or excuses are popping into my head....why on earth did I agree to go in the first place?
I am not short of food....or company .
I like my days here on my own, especially now Spring has finally established itself in my garden!
I will almost certainly go....I know that but I will be much more careful before I agree to any more outings which start with the word, pensioner!
Bah! Humbug!



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1 comment:

  1. It is that word that seems to be disturbing you. Being older (or mature as I like to say) is a fact of life, and we can either become a Pensioner or we can maintain our lives without the dreaded word.

    In military terms they don't use Pensioner, rather Veteran, which while softer means the same thing.

    But I tend to make it clear that I am surviving on three pensions having retired three times in my life.

    The first time when I was 40 after 22 years service with an immediate pension.

    The second time at 60 when I was apparently no further use to the Armed Forces on a second pension.

    The third at 65, when I became an official OAP in government terms.


    These are labels, used to describe a mature man in the prime (well I think so) of his life, 2 years away from 70, training hard and about to be licensed as LLM in Rochester in May. I will have to retire from this yet again at 70, but with PTO - who says I am a pensioner will get a retort that many younger than me are not getting up to the things that God have given me to do.

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