A Foretaste of Retirement

About a month ago, my boss walked up to my desk and asked, "Have you got a moment?"  If there's one thing that I've learned during my forty-one year career it's that, when your boss asks you that question, the correct answer is invariably "Yes".  So that's what I said, and she led me to one of the meeting rooms, where the Human Resources manager awaited us.

Uh-oh. 

Another thing that forty-one years in the workforce has taught me is that meetings with one's boss and any H.R. representative are rarely happy ones.

After the standard greetings had been exchanged and we were all seated, my boss spoke.  "We've noticed that you're still struggling with your work, due to your condition," (by which she meant Parkinson's disease) "and we feel that perhaps it might be time for you to take a short leave so that you can focus on your health."

I understood that a "short leave" meant my going on short term disability, which can be as long as twenty-six weeks (hardly my idea of "short") because my boss had tabled the possibility of my taking such a leave if my disease continued to affect my work during my last performance review.

Although the suggestion wasn't completely unexpected, I was still somewhat nonplussed.   It was true that some of my Parkinson's symptoms were proving to be hindrances to my work.  My typing speed had noticeably diminished due to reduced finger dexterity.  My mental focus was constantly divided between work activities like writing and debugging code, testing programs and updating documentation versus trying not to drool all over myself.  Another recent distraction was chronic lower back pain which I suspect resulted from improper posture caused by Parkinson's and which seemed to be exacerbated by prolonged sitting at my desk.  It's hard to concentrate when your back hurts.

So, yes, my work was somewhat impaired, but I honestly didn't feel that it was to such a degree that a six-month leave of absence was called for.  Clearly, my boss disagreed.  

The uncomfortable question that was bouncing around my brain was whether she was truly doing this out of concern for my health and well-being, or if this wasn't just a conveniently "nice" way to get rid of me.  After all, I would be off work and yet receiving my full salary for 14 weeks, after which I could stay off work at two-thirds of my regular pay for another 12 weeks. After that, I could return to the office in hopes that my long sabbatical had rejuvenated me to the point where I could once more be productive, or I had the option of switching to long term disability leave which, in my case, could take me right into retirement.  You see, I would be 64 years old at the end of my short term disability period, with less than a year left before I reached retirement age.

It is well-known, however, that Parkinson's disease doesn't get better.  It gets worse.  It's progress can be slowed with the help of medication, exercise, therapy and even surgical procedures, but none of these things has ever been able to reverse or even stop the deterioration.  It never gets better, so it's pretty much a foregone conclusion that I'm not going to magically return to my former job proficiency after my extended leave. 

With all these things taken into consideration, I decided to play along and go on short term disability leave, as suggested.  That was a month ago.  Since then, I've been off work.  It feels like I'm getting a sneak preview of what retirement will be like.  I suddenly have a lot more time on my hands.  This has its upside.  I always said that I'm not the kind of person who can't find any other way to pass the time besides my job.  I tend to make my own hobbies and pet projects.  Beyond those, there always seems to be lots to do in and around my home.  I have the time to exercise more regularly, and yet, I have to admit that there are times when I find myself wondering what I'm doing at home.  This just doesn't feel right.  I should be at the office debugging programs rather than whiling away my time at home.

My wife enjoys my increased presence.  For one thing, I now chauffeur her to work and back on days on which she's scheduled to work (she doesn't drive).  I've also assumed a larger share of the household chores than I did while working. 

The neighbors have noticed that I'm home most of the time and one of them, Ken, has taken this as his cue to be more sociable.  One day last week I was mowing my lawn when, suddenly, there was Ken, standing beside me.  I politely shut off my lawn mower so that I could hear him and he explained that he had tried to get my attention by waving to me several times, but I never saw him, so he finally decided that he would just have to come over.  Truth be told, I had noticed him a couple of times, waving his arms like he was practicing his semaphore, but I pretended not to.  I've nothing against the chap but, as I've declared several times throughout this blog, I'm a dyed-in-the-wool introvert.  As such, I don't generally enjoy exchanging pleasantries whom I don't know very well and, being an introvert, I've made no attempt to get to know any of my neighbors very well.

Ken began by expressing his concern because he'd noticed that I was home most of the time, but didn't come out of the house much, so he wondered if I was ill.  While mentally contemplating that I seem to have become the neighborhood Boo Radley, I assured him that I was fine but that I was on extended leave from work due to my Parkinson's condition (which he did know about) and that I was focusing on indoor projects and exercises.

Ken commented that he knew the company that I worked for and they have a good reputation for taking care of their employees and he wondered whether they still make computer racks.  I told him that they still do and he wondered whether they were made in Canada or in their Chinese plant because they'd moved production of some of their product to China and everything that came out of there was garbage and he couldn't get out much either these days because his minivan's rear axle had broken and the speedometer, odometer and fuel gauge didn't work properly and it was going to cost in the neighborhood of $5,000 to get it all repaired and at first he figured he'd just write off the old minivan and buy a used car but, darn it, used cars are ridiculously expensive these days, why you can't find anything for under $26,000 and even then you don't know what you're getting and nobody except for Chrysler even makes minivans anymore so he had decided to have his old minivan repaired after all but it wasn't going to be done until the end of the month but aside from the problems he'd already mentioned the car was in pristine condition because he's been meticulous about caring for it for example he has the bottom oil sprayed every year so that it's free from rust because he's seen too many cars whose bottoms just rust out from under them especially the newer models because the auto manufacturers have taken to using ridiculously thin sheet metal ever since 2019 and that just doesn't hold up speaking of which how do I like the Hyundai that I'm driving these days and he talked for 45 minutes while I stood there smiling and nodding and wondering if I would ever be able to finish mowing my lawn.

As painful as it was having to listen to Ken's endless oratory, the realization came to me that I can now afford to waste that kind of time because I've nowhere else to be.  The jury is still out on whether this whole situation is a blessing or a curse. 

Confessions of a Recluse

I have a confession to make.  I believe that I've weathered this pandemic better than most, because I have certain distinct advantages.  For one thing, I'm not a moron.  This has helped me to avoid getting infected.  Unlike those so-called "anti maskers", I understand that the novel Corona virus does not gave a rat's patootie about my personal rights and freedoms, so I follow the protocols.  I wear a mask when in public spaces, I try to maintain a distance of 2 meters or more from others where possible, I sanitize my hands regularly and I avoid unnecessary outings.

 I'm lucky enough to work for a company that has been designated an essential service, and so has remained both open and profitable, so my earnings have not been affected.  And yet, my job is not the kind of job that potentially puts me in harm's way like our doctors, nurses, personal support workers, truck drivers, grocery store clerks and Wal-Mart greeters.  

I also avoid socializing unnecessarily, and here is where I have another distinct advantage. As I've said more than once in this blog, I'm a natural introvert.  I actually like keeping to myself and staying in most of the time.  My idea of a fun evening is sitting at home in my easy chair watching something on TV - even something I've seen before.  Goodness knows, I have lots of movies and TV shows in my Blu-ray and DVD collection.  I don't even subscribe to Netflix or the Disney Channel.  I do subscribe to Crave TV because I'm apparently not happy unless I'm vastly over-paying for my recreational media (okay, so maybe I am a bit of a moron in some respects).

I have a fairly large music collection and I often enjoy listening to it.  By this I mean really listening.  Not just playing it in the background whilst doing something else.  I mean sitting back in that beloved easy chair of mine, the same one from which I watch TV, turning on some music, closing my eyes and just listening, savouring every note, every lyric, every nuance.   

Before the pandemic hit, I had been invited to a wedding that took place last November.  Because of the pandemic, the newly-weds had to scale back their guest list, so my invitation was revoked with regrets.  Was I offended or even just bummed out?  No sirree!  I felt like I'd been let off the hook.  I don't generally like going to weddings.  I'm not even looking forward to my daughter's this year!  If I could find some way of staying home and playing Duke Nukem Forever instead of attending, I'd do it in a heartbeat!

I don't even have Zoom or Skype chats with my friends and family.  I do use Skype, but just the text messages, no voice or video.  If I want to actually talk to someone (which is rare enough), I use a good old-fashioned telephone.  I don't need to see their faces.  In most cases, I know what they look like.  I don't have all that many friends and those few that I do have, I keep in touch via e-mail (and/or Skype).  I don't even have a Facebook or Twitter account.  Anyone who wants to keep track of me on social media can do so by reading this blog plus they get the added benefit of my wit and wisdom (and humility).

Some have suggested that the isolation forced upon us by the pandemic can be detrimental to mental health (or just detri-mental for short).  I just made up that contraction, but feel free to use it, royalty-free.  Just be sure to always follow it with "(c) Halmanator, 2021".  I think, if anything, the social isolation has improved my mental health (full disclosure: there are those who would note, at this point, that this is no grand claim as it had no-where to go but up anyway).  

Most people think of introverts as socially-handicapped recluses.  I prefer the Myers-Briggs interpretation of the term.  Myers-Briggs defines an introvert as someone who gets his or her energy from solitude rather than social interaction.  Thanks to this pandemic, my batteries are fully-charged!

The Social Media Conundrum

Nowadays job search gurus and web sites such as LinkedIn.com are commonly advising their readers and members to be mindful of the content that they post on social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, etc.  It's no secret that potential employers commonly browse the social media pages of prospective employees as part of their selection process.   I have read that some employers have admitted to disqualifying potential job candidates because of something that they read or saw on said candidate's Facebook page.

I'm a Facebook hold-out.  I don't have a Facebook account, because I am a natural introvert and I don't feel the need or the desire to share every detail of my life with a bunch of on-line "friends".  My real friends know where to find me and we keep abreast of the goings-on in each others' lives in the old-fashioned manner (i.e. by telephone or face-to-face communication).

If a potential employer "Googles" my name, they will find my LinkedIn profile, a bunch of photos on my Flickr page, my Google+ page (which I really don't keep up to date), some game reviews on a computer gaming site, and a handful of miscellaneous posts on technical web sites.  Ironically, they might not even necessarily find this blog, without browsing through several pages worth of results or clicking on related links, because I don't use my proper name here all that much (no, my name is not really "The Halmanator").  With a little more careful searching, they might come upon the video that I posted on YouTube in memoriam of my late son.

There is actually a Facebook account belonging to someone who happens to share my name, but that someone is not me. The same person also has a Twitter account, an Instagram account and, just to really confuse a potential employer, he`s also on LinkedIn.  Presumably anyone looking for me, or information about me, would soon realize that these accounts are not mine, based on the owner's age (he's younger than I), geographical location (he's in New Jersey, I'm in Ontario) and other such details.

This has got me speculating as to whether not having a social media presence might also reduce one's chances of getting hired.  I could well envision a scenario where a somewhat paranoid potential employer, dismayed at not finding me on any of the key social media sites, assumes that I must have something to hide, and disqualifies me in the interest of erring on the side of caution.

Well, let me say for the record that, if  you have my résumé in hand and you've arrived at this post because you're digging for more info about me and you're put off by my desire for a little privacy in my personal life, I probably don't want to work for you anyway.

Thanks for your Pinterest.