Retirement Archives - grace grits and gardening

Fun times at the Dallas branch!

I resigned from my loan officer position at State Bank & Trust about nine months ago. After 25 years with the same management, it was a huge change for everyone. After a quarter-century, I couldn’t just write any old plain vanilla milk toast resignation letter…
I’ve had several friends request a copy of my letter, so I’m printing it here.

To: State Bank & Trust
Re: Letter of Resignation

It is with mixed emotions that I write this letter to notify you that
____I’m bored with the same ole stories
____ I hate all my work clothes
____ I am tired of doing banking reports
____ I can’t hold my stomach in anymore
_x__ it’s time for a change.

I am therefore
____ going to beauty school
____ dropping out of society
____ getting plastered
____ learning Mandarin
____ having another baby
____ joining the clergy
_x__ tendering my resignation from the bank.

Please note that
____ I am hilarious
____ you will never see me again
____ I am hearing voices
____ I am changing my phone number
_x__ November 1, 2011 will be my last day of employment.

I would like to thank you for
____ never a dull moment
____ second hand smoke
____ internet access
____ free coffee and cheap insurance
____ letting me wear pants since 1995
____ a wonderful, fun job for a long, long time
_x__ ALL OF THE ABOVE!

Yours very truly,
Talya Tate Boerner

Today marks the beginning of my 4th month! So far so good. I feel happy and calm and have really begun to enjoy the changes that are developing in my life. I’m taking better care of myself, eating organic and limiting red meat. And I sleep better. My friends have told me I have a glow. The glow of retirement. YesPleaseAndThankYou!

I retired from my 25 year banking career at State Bank & Trust on Halloween. As I enter into my 2nd trimester of retirement, I think I’ve only gained 5 pounds. But I don’t really know or care. As long as my jeans fit, no worries. The only time I really think about it is when I’m forced to weigh in for my annual physical at the insistence of Jennifer, my cute, tiny, female-DoogieHowser-ish internist. (There is something rather unsettling about explaining hot flashes to Jennifer, obviously born in the 1980s. I feel immediately more vibrant after a visit to Dr. Walter, who was given a proper, doctorly name, when gas cost $0.15 per gallon.)

My husband, on the other hand, weighs himself at least 2 times a day, and ALWAYS after a big dinner. This is so baffling to me, but quite entertaining. He steps on the scale, which is not accurate compared to Dr. Jennifer’s scale, and announces the results in summary format, but never stating the actual poundage to me. “Well, I shouldn’t have had that burger at dinner,” incredibly disappointed in himself, sounding like Eeyore. Or, with a pleasant smile in his voice, “Turkey wrap at lunch” proud that the scale delivered positive news. I do not even say it – I soooo want to say it. I am trying my dead level best to be supportive. After all, I’m a kept woman now.

Seriously, does he not know about water retention? That no matter what he eats, foregoes or pukes up that day, he simply will NOT weigh less at night than he did in the morning. It’s a mathematical dieting fact of life. To see a change, he must make a major lifestyle change, like donating a leg. He’s a very smart man. He structures complicated deals I only pretend to understand. He, of all people, should understand that these small weight fluctuations from morning to night are simple rounding errors! I sweat four days a week for months, eating only gluten-free, dairy-free, taste-free food with no obvious change, yet he hopes and believes in his heart that he can step on the scale after substituting fries for cabbage at dinner one night and truly lose weight? But then again, he is a man. They do have the advantage of somehow dropping 2 pounds after a satisfying bathroom break. And it’s not water…

After only one week of retirement, everyone began to ask me incredulously, “WHAT are you doing with yourself?”, as if I had been confined to complete bed rest and chicken broth. “WHAT on Earth do you do all day?”, blah blah blah. Oh puleeze! {insert eye roll here} Like these people could not entertain themselves for even one measly week? I was already into my 4th month and had not watched a minute of daytime television (except for a couple of episodes of Andy Griffith). But then again, I can entertain myself at Target. I will admit, now that the tables have turned, I too made those catty comments to my stay-at-home friends, pretending to be so incredibly fulfilled when really, I was totally sleep deprived, envious and bitter. It was just a coping skill. We do what we have to do to get down the road.

I can see this clearly now that I am more rested and less stressed. I no longer track the prime interest rate or worry about the median sales price for Dallas County homes compared to the prior quarter, or whether the price per square foot has fallen in Preston Hollow. I am losing no sleep over the 30 year jumbo mortgage rate products. I have allowed myself to let go of this information, opening up my brain for new creative ideas and boosting my memory. John’s brain is jammed with every number he ever knew – his old phone numbers, apartment numbers, and every golf hole stroke/score. This is why he cannot remember important particulars such as the delicate working of the body as it relates to water weight retention.

No longer do I have recurring dreams about falling or floating off into the upper atmosphere, or forgetting to go to my college classes an entire semester, or being naked at work. My dreams are now very different, peaceful and specific – eating a bowl of peaches, swimming in the ocean or watching it snow. I know, I know. In only 90 days, I’ve become one of those people who annoys the hell out of me.

Twenty-five years is a big chunk of my life. Half of my life with the same bank owners and co-workers. I was a baby when I started working there – fresh out of Baylor University. There is no way to walk away and not leave a part of myself behind. Now I’m the customer. Tomorrow I need to drop by to do some banking. I know there will be fresh, hot, complementary coffee – with those awesome french vanilla liquid coffee mate singles – and juicy gossip waiting for me. I hope they don’t notice my extra 5 pounds. But really, it’s just water weight.

talya

Musical Pairings:
Uncle Kracker, “Smile”

iQuit

But It’s Only Water Weight!

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