Another Day in the Life of a Sexagenarian

I was going to write about our recent travels but instead need to rave and rant a bit. Being what people refer to as a senior citizen has not gone down well with me. Since our assistant pastor preached yesterday on "Pride" I may have to repent, but I am still adjusting to this catagory.

I will turn 62 in late February. There is only one advantage I can think of for being this age. The Social Security Administration will send you a check every month. I can even get free cookies at our local food market and bank the first few days of the month. I guess there are two advantages to being 62. My husband has been getting reduced admission at the movie theatre for the last year. I, claiming to take the high road and not cheat, have paid the full fair. I thought one needed to be 65 to get the bargain price. Today, when we wanted to see a matinee, I checked online for movie times. I also noticed they give a senior citizen discount to anyone 60 or more. Ouch. I did go for the discount but it did not improve my mood.

This morning since I am officially three months from my magic birthday I decided to start the application for "early" retirement. That should make me feel better. I am an early retiree. Not so old as some I guess. Okay, I remember what the pastor said. Lord have mercy! I found the 800 phone number online for SS. When I called I got the usual list of options from the recording. After wading through them and voicing "apply for benefits", the recorded voice said they were very busy and hung up on me. The next voice I heard was the AT&T operator offering to help redial the number for 95cents. I tried again with the same outcome. Then, following the phone advice I decided to do it online. I began the application only to have the program kick me off telling me I had taken too much time. NOT. I did it again. At the completion I was told I had made two errors. After I went back to correct the errors, it closed the program saying you could not go back in this program. Arggg. The only logical thing to do now was whine. My husband, the fixer, came to the rescue. I don't know how he did it but he reached a human and handed me the phone. Now we were making progress. I took the oath that I was giving correct information. They probably tape the conversation. I wonder what they will think if they ever play the tape back and hear me start to laugh. One of the list of questions she asked me was: "Have you ever taken a religious vow of poverty." HONESTLY. I started to laugh. I said, "Do you mean if I had you would not send me the money?" I never got a straight answer on that one but it made my day. I think when we were young my sister swore she would never be poor, but I never swore I would be.