Growing up, my parents modeled a very strong work ethic.

Daddy commuted downtown every day, never once stayed home sick (except that time he had the mumps–which of course he caught from his multiple children), took two weeks of vacation in the summer and retired at 65 (to the day.) On Saturdays he got up, got dressed and worked all day around the house, except during football season when the afternoons were devoted to the games on TV. He was in a pool at work which made them more interesting (or lucrative.) He never once left his bedroom in his pajamas (except that week of the afore-mentioned mumps or Christmas morning, swathed in a robe and slippers.)

Mother wasn’t much different. She was either in the kitchen or doing other housework morning until night. In the afternoons, she would watch her soap operas, but always with laundry or sewing in her lap. She, too, was fully dressed all day, it might be a housedress, but never pants and always pumps.

There was no lying on the sofa, no wasting time. Idle hands lead to nothing but trouble.

Which is why I have to do something while I watch TV. These days idle hands lead to a nap.

Which is why when I went to college, I knew I was there to go to class, make my grades, and graduate in a reasonable amount of time. No dawdling around. Get it done!

Which is also why when I was married to Mike (Traci, Adam and Molly’s dad–org chart to follow in another blog) and stayed home with the children, I took my role as stay-at-home-mom very seriously. It was my job to tend to the kids, get them safely to and from wherever, keep a tidy house, do the laundry (in front of the TV,) grocery shop, and put a hot dinner on the table.

Mike went to work every day to earn the money for us. My “career” was to be the partner in our relationship and uphold my end of the bargain by doing the best possible job I could as the wife and mother.

Which is also why when I went to work at JCPenney and later with Scott at our company, I took my role as employee and business-partner very seriously once again.

Parental tapes play loudly in my head.

So, here I am, semi-retired, spending half my day on the sofa, twiddling my metaphorical thumbs, but not much else, and the other half of the day working for a few hours. I am still a conscientious worker bee when I have to be.

However, that half of me that’s on the sofa has really dropped the ball on her end of our bargain. Sure, she does the laundry, dishes, trash, and even makes the bed when people are coming over, but otherwise, it’s a lazy life of Freecell, TikTok, Wordle (yes, God help me!) and NYT crosswords. And there have been days when I wore pajamas 24 hours. Mother and Daddy are very disappointed.

I love this life, but it dawned on me as I was eating cream cheese for lunch that I have missed the point.

I have a new job, a new career (third or fourth–I’ve lost count) and I am a failure already (an overweight, out of shape, badly nourished failure.)

My new job is to live a long and healthy life and try to get to 100.

That means eating healthy food and moving more, finding meaning and purpose, creating and maintaining lasting relationships, developing a deeper spiritual life, meditating, improving my mind and pretty much doing all the things we know we are supposed to do, but don’t for whatever reason.

So, I’m getting off the sofa and going to the kitchen to chop vegetables for dinner. I think there are some in the fridge somewhere. Oh, yeah, right there behind the cream cheese.