Steamed Chicken

As Stephen Colbert was wrapping up the last few episodes of his talk show, he took his audience behind the scenes for The Worst of The Late Show. He ate steamed chicken during the episode, and for a while, I became obsessed with steamed chicken. 

I didn't start making steamed chicken or eating it every day. But I thought if I did, it would be the answer to all my problems. I'd be healthier, and I'd also capture whatever mojo Stephen absorbed from those strips of protein each day. 

Steamed chicken held the promise of a new life. 

Like I said, I didn't start a daily regimen of steamed chicken. In fact, my hot dog intake has increased, and there's a freezer full of frozen pizza I need to address. 

To be honest, I think I'm afraid to start a steamed chicken journey. I'm not sure if I'm ready to give up the simple life I have. Becoming a creative powerhouse sounds a little exhausting, and I'm just starting to adjust to the slower rhythm of retirement. 

Introducing this kind of change seems a little reckless. I'm not saying I won't be eating steamed chicken at all. In fact, Deb and I had baked chicken for dinner this evening. I have to admit, after eating it, I felt a small spark of change creeping into my body and I'm convinced that if I have the same meal tomorrow, my "Colbert Ascension" will take off like an uncontrolled rocket. 

Scary stuff. I'm guessing the only way to pump the brakes is a Quarter Pounder and that's not a problem at all. 

The "R" Word

It doesn't feel like I'm retired. It feels like I'm committing wage theft even though I no longer get any money from anyone. 100% expense, zero income—and I feel guilty about it. So weird. 

This is the beginning of week three, and I still have the "Sunday Blues" thinking about going back to work today, even though... I'm not going back to work. 

I'm not going to try to figure it out. People are telling me that I'll adjust. I don't know what that adjustment will be like. Will I become carefree Greg, who frolicks with a rhythmic gymnastics ribbon in the park across the street? Will I begin skipping up and down the sidewalk singing 80's pop lyrics and making finger guns at everyone I pass? 

There seems to be an expectation (both external and internal) that Debbie and I should mark the occasion with a big trip or start building a boat in our basement. So far, we haven't done anything like that. We've just been doing our normal stuff and noticing out loud to one another how things were different just two weeks ago. 

Things are different with new patterns of behavior emerging. I'm also being reassured that labeling activities as "unproductive" isn't accurate. Although I'm not sure how a nap is productive. But I did finish a book this weekend. Not exactly productive either, but it's something new I'd like to sustain. 

I've also noticed that my attitude of gratitude has bloomed. I am spending time thinking about the people and things that bring me joy. It's an exercise that comes easily and feels like taking a deep breath in a cool breeze. Ugh... sorry about that line. Cheesy. Although I guess I can use retirement as an excuse to be self-indulgent. That means you may have to endure some extra cheese in this space now and then. 

I'd better not overdo things for this first post in a new age, so I'll stop here. Plus, I have some shopping to do: