I think there might be a bet going on at work.
I think there might even be a POOL started.
I think it might involve me and when either I QUIT working or when I drop dead either at work or at home. I suspect it's double bonus if it is at work.
I think this because I let it be known recently at my place of work that I will be 61 on my next birthday.
I know this age reveal wouldn't really be all that unusual if one worked in a dress shop, make up counter, or candy store with other workers of the same gender, life experiences, and /or even clothes style. But as I don't, and I do work with people who are primarily below the age of eighteen with co workers primarily below the age of fifty, I suppose 61 seems really really out there. One leg in the grave and the other on a banana peel type of 'out there'.
In fact , I suspect that I am older than most of their parents and perhaps even some of their grandparents, this includes my supervisors and team leaders.
I have had 4 or 5 co workers casually ask me since the unveiling of my age (as if they didn't already suspect) when I plan on quitting. They sort of just incidentally work the topic into the conversation using their crafty and insidious professional methods of interviewing by saying things like, "So how long do you think you will be working here?" or " Do you find that you have begun to ache all over in your joints?" as they look quizzically and unrelentingly into my eyes waiting for my reply.
Yes, it has all the markings of a pool of some kind being organized. It won't be the first time a pool has been established based on my physical and/or bodily functions.
They (the undefined and ever present in life They) organized one when I was about to give birth to my first child at the age of 30.
I think almost all of the whole of that small town in Saskatchewan where I lived at the time was in on it--at least I am pretty certain all the ones who regularly attended the local tavern had their names entered. I sort of recall that the bristol board gridded sign up chart was posted behind the chip rack by the bar between the Cheezie and Hickory Stick stand.
You can imagine the look on the nurse's face who helped me through the delivery when I told her from the table that she should phone her son (the organizer of the pool ...not the organizer of the baby) to tell him the exact time and date I delivered of an 8lb.4oz boy.
I got $56.75 from that pool thirty years ago.
What with inflation and cost of living increases , I figure I should get at least triple that with this one, even if I don't drop off in situ.
(which ,of course, will result in an automatic double your money refund).
I think there might even be a POOL started.
I think it might involve me and when either I QUIT working or when I drop dead either at work or at home. I suspect it's double bonus if it is at work.
I think this because I let it be known recently at my place of work that I will be 61 on my next birthday.
I know this age reveal wouldn't really be all that unusual if one worked in a dress shop, make up counter, or candy store with other workers of the same gender, life experiences, and /or even clothes style. But as I don't, and I do work with people who are primarily below the age of eighteen with co workers primarily below the age of fifty, I suppose 61 seems really really out there. One leg in the grave and the other on a banana peel type of 'out there'.
In fact , I suspect that I am older than most of their parents and perhaps even some of their grandparents, this includes my supervisors and team leaders.
I have had 4 or 5 co workers casually ask me since the unveiling of my age (as if they didn't already suspect) when I plan on quitting. They sort of just incidentally work the topic into the conversation using their crafty and insidious professional methods of interviewing by saying things like, "So how long do you think you will be working here?" or " Do you find that you have begun to ache all over in your joints?" as they look quizzically and unrelentingly into my eyes waiting for my reply.
Yes, it has all the markings of a pool of some kind being organized. It won't be the first time a pool has been established based on my physical and/or bodily functions.
They (the undefined and ever present in life They) organized one when I was about to give birth to my first child at the age of 30.
I think almost all of the whole of that small town in Saskatchewan where I lived at the time was in on it--at least I am pretty certain all the ones who regularly attended the local tavern had their names entered. I sort of recall that the bristol board gridded sign up chart was posted behind the chip rack by the bar between the Cheezie and Hickory Stick stand.
You can imagine the look on the nurse's face who helped me through the delivery when I told her from the table that she should phone her son (the organizer of the pool ...not the organizer of the baby) to tell him the exact time and date I delivered of an 8lb.4oz boy.
I got $56.75 from that pool thirty years ago.
What with inflation and cost of living increases , I figure I should get at least triple that with this one, even if I don't drop off in situ.
(which ,of course, will result in an automatic double your money refund).
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