Stay at Home Shopping

Online ShoppingOther than for groceries, I am strictly an online shopper. There is almost nothing you can’t get online anymore. And I’ve reached the point where I just don’t have the patience to do the whole brick and mortar retail store thing anymore.

The case for online shopping for virtually anything and everything is simply too compelling. I can be sitting on the toilet, iPhone in hand, and in a few screen taps, I can buy a new pair of sneakers scheduled for free delivery the next day. Or dog food, cat litter, tools, toothpaste, t-shirts, batteries, jeans, whatever.

Even big things, like patio furniture, throw rugs, a bicycle rack for my car, a new laptop and monitor, can be purchased online.

And it’s all delivered right to my front door, like magic. Why “go out” shopping when you can “stay in” and have it all?

So I’m sorry to all of you mall stores, big box stores, department stores, clothing stores, or nearly every other kind of physical store. And I’m really sorry to all of you who work at these brick and mortar stores who are getting pink-slipped. But when just about everything I need comes to me, why should I have to go to you?

Think about it.

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, which is all about shopping.

An Executive Temper Tantrum

C2BFAD03-C6DD-44BD-BAEF-61AC371A2AA7I need more!” he screamed, pounding his fists on his large desk. “I will not tolerate another day like yesterday. How dare that Caspar Milquetoast of a congressman, that mouse of a man, dictate to me what I can and can’t do? I find that offensive. I’m the goddam President of the United States for crissake. I can do whatever the fuck I want to do, do you hear me? If I want to put this country up for sale to the highest bidder, I can fucking do it, do you hear me?”

The president’s son-in-law looked up at his father-in-law and said, “So what more do you need from us, sir?”

“I need a plan, a strategy, a distraction, a diversion!” the president bellowed. “I need something to get people to stop talking about impeachment. I need a goddam war!”

One White House aide leaned over to another aide and whispered, “This is the very definition of insanity.”

Written for Rachel Poli’s Time To Write Sentence Starter (“I need more”), for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt (For Sale), and for these daily prompts: Word of the Day Challenge (yesterday), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (milquetoast), Daily Addictions (mouse), Your Daily Word Prompt (dictate), The Daily Spur (offensive), and Ragtag Daily Prompt (insanity).

My Life Is Over

859F7BB1-7BCA-4BA1-9191-BB51F5823EDBI dreaded it. Seriously, I dreaded it. I had spent four and a half decades working. And to be honest, I defined myself by what I did for my work. I felt that, were it not for my job, I would go through a traumatic identity crisis. I mean, without my work, who the hell was I?

I just figured I’d work until I dropped dead. Because not working would surely bore me to death. What would I do with the 50 to 60 hours a week that I would otherwise have spent working. Watch television? Just shoot me, for crissake.

But then the time finally came. My boss called me into her office and said, “Fandango, are you giving any thought to retirement?” Okay, you don’t have to hit me over the head. I get it. Time to hang up the old spurs, or whatever it is that one hangs up when one retires.

So I lied, “Yes, I am planning to retire at the end of the calendar year.” Note that I didn’t specify which calendar year.

“Excellent,” she said, glee in her eyes. “That will give you three months to train your replacement, someone who is much younger than you, smarter than you, better looking than you, and to whom we can pay a lot less money than you.”

Okay, she didn’t really say all that, other than taking three months to train my replacement. But it was implied.

Three months later I retired. I woke up on the first Monday that I would otherwise have gotten ready for work and I thought, My. Life. Is. Over.

That was three years ago and I’m still alive. I am fortunate enough to have amassed a decent nest egg during my working years, so I am not concerned about having to survive the rest of my life on canned tuna. Although I do love canned tuna.

And I discovered something else. I discovered happiness. I am actually very happy in retirement. I have no timetables, no pressing deliverables, no meetings to attend, no conference calls or webinars to participate in. No unreasonable clients to deal with, no flights to catch, no boss to please. I can wear jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers at all times. And I have actually gotten used to spending a lot of time with my wife. So much time with my wife! 😁

So, after almost three years of retirement, I can unequivocally say that…

Retirement is Happiness

Written for this week’s Tale Weaver prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, where we are supposed to write about our thoughts on the notion of happiness.

In Other Words — Beyond Repair

4F22CEEA-4DA2-4B49-9B0B-39EDBFFC8189Ever since our first date, the chemistry between us was undeniable, and our relationship fell into a comfortable rhythm for both of us.

Yet the concept of true love has always been a nebulous one for me.

Sadly, over time, a fissure in our once beautiful relationship occurred, and that rift began to tear our love asunder.

And as much as it pains me to admit this, I lack the tools to repair our broken love.

I’m so, so sorry, but whatever this thing called love is supposed to be, I just don’t feel it anymore.

In other wordsWritten for the In Other Words prompt from Patricia’s Place. The challenge this week is to write a story or poem of five lines or fewer using the picture above and/or the word “repair.” Photo credit: Steve Buissinne from Pixabay.

Also written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, where the challenge is to write about the word “sorry.”

And also for these daily prompts: The Daily Spur (date), Daily Addictions (rhythm), Word of the Day Challenge (love), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (nebulous), Ragtag Daily Prompt (fissure), and Your Daily Word Prompt (sunder).

A Fresh Start

54A2797E-55A8-4820-97C7-2C5889B1E610Jim was nervous as he walked into Stephen’s office. “Sit, Jim,” his boss said taking a seat on his office sofa and pointing to a chair next to it.

Jim sat down. “You want to talk to me about my report?”

“Yes, Jim, I do,” Stephen said. “Your research was excellent. Very detailed and in-depth, very well annotated. Unfortunately, your written report was problematic.”

Jim was confused. “Problematic?” he said. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re way too deep into the weeds,” his boss said. “It’s sixty pages long, for crissake. No one is going to take the time to read it all. What you need to do is put an abstract of your research at the beginning and a summary at the end. That way, people can read the abstract, get the gist of the report, skip to the summary, and voila, they’re done. Sort of like a pebble skimming the surface.”

“I feel like I’ve just entered the Twilight Zone,” Jim said. “I’m a research scientist and you want me to just skim the surface in my written reports. That’s nonsense. That’s not what I spent my time getting a PhD to do. I don’t think we have a match, Stephen. I quit.” Jim got up and started to leave Stephen’s office, when Stephen reached out and grabbed Jim by his right wrist.

“Jim, wait,” Stephen said. “Listen, the holidays are coming up. Take some time, think things over, and when you come back, we’ll get off to a fresh start. We need people like you with your work ethic. I’ve got my eye on you for bigger things, son.”

Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt (weeds) and for these daily prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (written), Your Daily Word Prompt (problematic), Ragtag Daily Prompt (pebble), Word of the Day Challenge (Zone), Daily Addictions (wrist), and The Daily Spur (holidays).