I should have let her take my lesson tonight (instead of me). I spent a frustrating hour trying to identify (by ear) major or minor or dominant notes and then whether the notes were from arpeggios or pentatonic scales. I struggle with hearing the differences. ☹️ I get bummed because I just want to play songs.
Substitute the word “cats” for the word “liquor” (I don’t drink) in this meme, and you have me in a nutshell.
I reached that certain age and I found I no longer cared what people thought of me. I don’t dress to please anyone but myself. I wear what’s comfortable, and I don’t wear makeup. I am comfortable in my own skin, and I like who I am. I put myself first. I do what pleases me. I don’t want drama. I don’t want to fight, but I won’t back down if pushed.
Yes, I like the woman I’ve become. I wish I’d let this version of me out forty years ago.
I’m old enough to have a head full of knowledge, and I’m high enough up in the hierarchy at work to be important to my employer. With the departure this year of the only other senior person in my department, I also have no one to back me up now.
This last week has been interesting. I created a procedures manual so that someone could step in and do the most important (and complicated) part of my job.
With age and experience comes the duty, the obligation, and the responsibility to pass my knowledge along to others. I don’t have a problem with training others. I rather enjoy it. Watching others learn and do well at the job is a tribute to my teaching abilities.
With my impending gall bladder surgery the department manager has insisted that the two more junior people start doing my job. I am spending my days watching others do my work and critiquing, teaching and training as they do so. I’m reviewing everything they do.
Yes, I know I am training my replacements. I’m 63. I’m not the future. They are. Retirement is coming. Knowing that I won’t be there someday not too long from now is a little disconcerting.
I didn’t think it would come so soon.
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