Fifteen pounds gone. Fifteen more to go. Fifteen years in, fifteen years to retirement. (Not that I’m all about retirement, mind. I will probably never completely retire; I’d drive my family stark-raving mad. Pretty sure I’d end up sleeping with the fishes.)
Sometimes I regret not having started teaching when other people my age did. Those folks are now looking at only three more years until retirement. But then I think back on what I did while my contemporaries were going to college — raising my sons and being a stay-at-home mom during the day and a working musician at night — and it was actually very rewarding. I’m glad I did it that way. So it’s all good.
Speaking of good, I had my first rehearsals with most of the choirs yesterday. My vocal jazz ensemble shows real promise, as does my high school choir (only 83 this time — a much more workable number). Sixty-seven in 7th/8th choir, and ninety in 5th/6th. Lots of music to do this year, as well as the fourteen thereafter…
Enjoy your Finkday. Weekend’s almost here.