Day 0 minus 30

On July 6, 2022, I retired from Bank of America…again. I’d been back at the Bank a decade since my first retirement and when I turned 62 with 10 years of service, I was eligible. My boss, a year older than me, and I talked about retirement often, usually when undesirable  tasks lay ahead of us.  When he showed me plans for his retirement home on a golf course in South Carolina, I realized, “He has a plan. I don’t have a plan. I need a plan.”

My plan

I am giving up my apartment in West Hollywood, putting my belongings in storage and traveling the US with my dog Arden, staying in Airbnb’s near family and friends. I’ll be gone for 6 months, probably more. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being “I don’t know where I’ll be” and 10 being “I have committed to a time and place,” the first 4 months are a 9 or 10. After that, the ratings plummet to the 2 to 3 range.

I will be blogging about my travels here so 1) my non-social-media friends and family know where I am, and 2) I’ll know where I went and what I did, long after this trip is over. In the past, I’ve put pen to paper in a multitude of journals from Moleskin to gifted journals with beautiful quotes to cheapy Mead Five Star college ruled notebooks purchased at CVS. When I packed up my place, I made the difficult decision to throw away the dozen or so partially filled paper journals that contained everything from what I was feeling to how much I weighed to visions about my future. It was like saying goodbye to a part of me, mainly the dreamer part of me. I took pictures of pages that made me particularly happy, sad or nostalgic.

The Bank

The decision to leave the Bank was not difficult. My passion for the work had waned. What was difficult is leaving the relationships I have with colleagues and clients, whose new classification is “friends.” And oh what friends they are! I’m going to thank everyone personally with the risk of forgetting someone, but as you can tell, I’m all about taking risks these days. To our commercial executives, Michelle and Tracy, thanks for the happy hour at Vespaio with cocktails, food and fellowship. To my treasury colleagues, Michael, Jenn S., Tracie, Kathleen, Anne, Bri, Stephanie, and Jenn G, your Airbnb gift certificate paid the balance for my week in Park City. To Brock who gave me a Sous Vide for my trip. I’m a work in progress on that one. To Judy who bought me my last $25 cocktail at the Pendry. To my relationship managers, Weihua, Randy, MeMe and Caroline, thanks for the Chevron gas card that will get more valuable the further East I drive. Thanks to Harold who is storing my vintage Tbird. I hope driving it brings you the happiness it does me. Thanks to my clients, Kate from Panda, for the beautiful flowers that brightened my apartment while I packed. And my goodie box from In-N-Out, Arden will sport his In-N-Out collar and leash cross country and the travel tumbler will keep my libations cold.

To Michael, Jenn and Micah, I am humbled by and grateful for the intimate and extraordinary going away/retirement party you hosted. I raved about the nacho bar ever since, and who can forget the MaryRita, Sayonara Sangria or the LA Blues blueberry cocktails! The mix of current and former (was reprimanded for saying “old”) colleagues jumpstarted memories from a 29-year banking career. It was the first time Cindy, Elli, Barbara, Jaimie and I had been together in decades. We missed you Annik, and thanks for the crystal blue butterfly to send me on my travels. Thanks Jaimie for the “MK” earrings that apparently stand for Michael Kors…huh! And to Manar, the picture of a beautiful necklace in the shape of my home state of California, I look forward to receiving and wearing:) To my dearest Kim, thank you for making the 24-hour trip to see me off and for the Amazon gift card to buy my dashcam. Thanks for all the gifts of champagne and wine that will be gone before I hit the road. And for all the cards that made me laugh and cry, they are pictured on my phone to read and reread when I’m lonely.

The packing

When I sold my townhouse in 2016 after living there for 16 years, I said I would move every 2 years to prevent “stuff” from accumulating. I pretty much stuck to this time frame when I rented Arturo’s house in the hills for 3 years before moving to my current apartment on Laurel Avenue, where I’ve lived for the last 3 years. Fortunately or unfortunately, my apartment has a lot of storage so there is room for more stuff than I want to transfer to Public Storage. Built in the 50’s, there are deep storage spaces above every closet in both bedrooms whose contents can only be reached via step ladder. The hallway closet has five deep shelves that houses linens, old computers, multiple clear Container Store storage bins marked “Arts & Crafts; School Supplies; Batteries and Keys; Stationary,” and so on. Each bedroom and the living room has a bookcase full of read and unread books.

For the most part, I am packing methodically. There are piles for donations to Out of the Closet, the homeless and for Amanda Foundation, the rescue who rescued Arden. I gifted the Arts & Crafts box to the shy blonde girl up the street who favors pink tutus. Thanks to Blake and John’s weekly delivery of Freshly and Blue Apron, I have a plentiful supply of padded boxes to pack dishes. Michael helped me wrap my art work, which I could not have done without him. Joey, Blake, John and Jason saved me multiple trips up and down the stairs of my second floor apartment by taking bags to the trash and multiple loads to Out of the Closet. Packing is relatively easy compared to carrying supplies, boxes and bags up and down the stairs. On July 22, my Apple watch clocked 16,049 steps, 27 flights of stairs and 18 hours standing.  Good exercise but taxing on this out-of-shape body.

The hardest decision is clothes, what to take, what to store and what to give away. I’ll be gone for 4 seasons so I have to pack a lot. I really wish I could just give away 80% of my wardrobe and start over. Half of the 20% I want to keep is too small for me, dresses, tops and pants I’ve gained too much weight to wear or pieces I’ve never worn, like the classic sleeveless floral shirtdress with the tags still on it. In one of the vacuum bags I bought from Amazon, I packed winter clothes that I won’t need for months and in another, I packed the items that are too small that I want to wear next summer. Wish me luck on that. I also have to pack for Arden which includes his rain jacket and sweater, flea and tick medicine, water and food bowls, and treats I’ve been stocking up on for months that I may not find on the road, namely Trader Joe’s dried chicken breasts and PURE Chicken and Parsley treats. I supposed if we’re stranded, Arden and I could live on this stockpile.

Then comes moving day. Thanks to a referral from Jason, I had the BEST movers ever. Hernan and Douglas wrapped and loaded my furniture with care, but the magic happened once we got to Public Storage. The way they packed my 10×10 storage unit was a work of art. Each box was put in place like a jigsaw puzzle piece. When you open the door, there is about a foot-and-a-half before you see only a mattress with my dining chairs hung over the top, leaving just enough room for my vacuum.

Health and beauty regimens

Mary

• Nails – good-bye gel; hello self-manicure
• Lashes – it will be hard to replicate the price I pay in San Gabriel
• Hair – who will hide my gray?
• Waxing – ouch
• Botox – thank you Rand for fitting me in. I trust no one but you. Love the new office!
• Mammogram – good for another 2 years
• Bloodwork – a few things to improve

Arden

• Teeth cleaned – thank you Healthy Spot
• Vet check-up – Patrick, you’re the BEST!

My interim retreat

The movers came on Wednesday, July 27,  and I had to be out of my apartment by August 1. This allowed much needed time to clean the apartment and sort through multiple bags of contents from drawers that I didn’t get to before the movers came, which created more donation piles for relevant destinations. I was blessed to stay in John and Blake’s cozy and comfortable guest house for a week before starting my travels on August 4. I love their house in Spalding Square, a 10 minute walk from my apartment. Their back yard with pool, hot tub, dining table and patio with a retractable awning was my refuge during the Covid pandemic. Since I live so close, there was never a need to stay in the guest house until now. The best part about the guest house was spending every evening with Blake, John and little Angie. I was busy at the apartment every day but each evening we shared a meal together.

The night before

John semi-surprised me with a yellow cake with chocolate icing after Blake reminded him that I was picky about my cakes. Alfredo, Joey, Luke, Michael and Luke stopped by to bid farewell and enjoy said delicious cake from Sweet Lady Jane’s and Veuve Clicquot champagne. Jason joined us remotely since he was still waiting for a negative Covid test to re-enter daily life.

I haven’t cried, which is surprising, since sentimental tears easily find their way down my cheeks. It’s hard to tell if I’m too exhausted or excited to cry. I typically don’t do well with uncertainty, so this is a big step for me. I’m trying not to worry about where I’ll live or what I’ll be doing a year from now. Tonight Joey gave me a card that read, “What a wonderful thought it is that some of the best days of our lives haven’t happened yet.”

I like that.