It's been just over three months since I retired. In that time, I have not been idle.

I released a remixed and remastered version of some of the best music I was part of. Mostly Still Underfoot by the Underachievers, originally released in 1986, is out on download and streaming services all over the interwebs.

I reached the end of my Big Book of Ancestors, a mostly internal document. It's not complete, but I now know the birth locations of all my ancestors whose birth location is known. Sweetie and I will have this reference for when we visit France in the fall.

New West Pride is ramping up to get ready for the August 17 street festival. I am board secretary and responsible for a few other things. It's my main stress right now, but it's not terrible.

Not like my job was.

I'm not exaggerating much when I say that my last two years of employment almost killed me. They certainly had a pronounced negative impact on my health. I was almost always sleep-deprived. I had a lot of gut pain and issues with digestion and absorption. I had myofascial issues that caused a lot of pain. There were days when I would hit the wall and have to book off for an afternoon, and times I was hit with pretty much all the symptoms associated with fibromyalgia.

As I've said before, it's not that the job was bad. It was a very good job, one I was fortunate to have. But it was the wrong job for me, and I had reached the limit of my ability to adapt myself to its needs.

I was burned out! I kind of knew it at the time but I didn't want to admit it. And I needed to put in the time so that Sweetie and I could have some kind of retirement savings. I knew I was hurting myself, but I did what my folks would have done and toughed it out. Now I have to deal with post-burnout.

My health improved very shortly after I retired. The gut issues went away almost entirely. But muscle and connective tissue problems remain, as do a few other minor things. I feel like I aged more than two years during the last two years.

So for a while, I'm going to push away feelings that I'm not doing enough. I need some time. Usually, at least if I manage things well, I no longer have to hurry. I have been in hurry mode for most of my life, and it's exhausting. Time to move at a more human pace.

I don't plan to coast from now until I hit my expiration date. I have ongoing responsibilities. I have a house to keep (that I need to do better at) and a garden to encourage. I have more musical things to do. If I can get into the proper mode, I can block out writing time.

I didn't think I'd need that much "vacation" after I stopped working. I thought I'd be rarin' to go. But I damaged myself more than I had thought I would. So enough toughness for now, and into recovery, for however long it takes.