The Big Empty

 I remember, when I was working, something I would call "The Big Empty." It came every other Friday, on the eve of a three day weekend. Because of the schedule that was worked out between myself and the manager, Fridays were always 12 hour days in the happy little pill room, marathons of medicating the masses, sedating the anxious, killing the pathogens of the infected, but mostly, just dealing with the first world problems of entitled assholes. Chaotic, short-staffed festivals of disorder, noise, and occasional medicine oriented activities. There were days when it was non-stop from the time you put the key in the lock to start the day until you slammed the gate in someone's face to end it. I don't miss it

Another feature of our schedule was that we only worked every other weekend, and if it was your lucky weekend, you had the added bonus of Monday off. Which means that after 12 hours of constant energy, you would slam that gate down at the end of the day to...nothing. No phone calls, no customers, no irritating assistant managers, nothing at all, and every other week this emotional whiplash lasted for three days. I have no kids, no family close by, no one I really wanted to spend time with, so for 72 hours I would basically have no reason to exist. 

The Big Empty. 

For those of you who don't know, I'm retired now, having sold my store to Rite Aid. I haven't filled a prescription in six months or rung up a sale in four, and let me tell you, I had no idea what The Big Empty was. What is retirement? It's nothing. No work clothes, no customers, no timeclock, no time really, no real reason to get out of bed in the morning. I know, boo-hoo cry me a river my retail pharmacy peeps are saying. "I just got my tech hours cut and my flu shot quota raised AGAIN. I don't wanna hear it."

I get it, and there's no way in hell I'd want to go back into your world. But, I'm gonna have to find more meaning in life than watering the garden every morning or wearing a path between my front door and the local library. I've probably read over 30 books since I've stopped working. 

The librarian knows me by name. 

A library is also more than books you know. There's also movies. Any movie that pops into your head, they'll go find it for you and let you take it home. Suck it Netflix. 

"Find a hobby" you'll say, and I could tell you all about my ham radio adventures. I'm sending out the radio waves up and down and east and west. I have contact with over 115 countries now. If only I was as worldly as my radio waves. 

So I'm reading like a banshee, watching more films than Roger Ebert in his prime, radioing around the world, spending time with a wife I adore, and taking occasional hikes in the mountains. Sounds pretty sweet now that I look at it. But there's no reason to do any of it. I'm thinking of dusting off my bass guitar, but there won't be any purpose in that either. 

Let's be honest, I'm just marking time until I die, and when I do, there's a good chance there won't be a person on this planet who will notice. I've gone from a job I couldn't stand to...

The Big Empty. 

I wasn't ready for it. I don't know how to get ready for it.

Anyway, that's how I'm doing for those of you that care.