Ozlilly's musings...

That’s my theme now, aging. Even though I remember attending the Committee on Aging at the UN as an NGO representative and heard the expression that we begin aging the day we are born, I want to express some of my thoughts on this topic now.

I have subscribed to a most inspiring Agist newsletter.
I go down to the lobby where I can download my mails and open the links. It’s great reading the tips and messages from David Stewart. This article is about a man who faces his age declaration on public media.
So I guess I’ve been trying to hide mine, but since I’ve been retired by the UN, and my boss even mentions that HR told them they cannot keep me any longer, it is really no secret I have reached a certain age.
Of course I want you to tell me: You don’t look it. Even now, I don’t want to tell you that my number is 65. Afterall in some cultures women do not tell their age. It could after all be 60, the official Austrian retirement age for women, or 62, the retirement age for people who joined the UN when I did, before 2014, when the retirement age for men and women was raised from 62 to 65, but only for new recruits.
Later (in my memoirs) I will talk about my experiences and emotions and struggles. Now I’m dealing with my new life segment (Lebensabschnitt in German).

I felt good about myself. I was contributing to protecting the world from nuclear terrorism. I was a sought after expert. I had tons of emails in my mailbox asking for help. I had jobs and assignments that needed to be taken care of urgently. I had to allocate a project code and task number for funding to be awarded for international trainings and workshops for front-line officers to detect smuggled nuclear and radioactive material at their borders. I was the passionate contacts super user who insisted on quality data when entering personal information. No GDPR restrictions at the UN! We have to know who you are and we only want to pay you once for the service you provide to world peace. I do not want to validate your second entry simply because somebody else overlooked the fact that your new passport left out your middle name. NOOO. Only one entry per person! Please! NO DUPLICATES. That was even the mandate. When I first started working at the IAEA in 2009. The new AIPS system will be the single source of the truth, we were told.

Let it go. Age gracefully. So grateful for this three weeks interim period to get a handle on my health. But look at me. I already look ten years older. Trying to hide my age under make-up and hair style. Who am I really?
Why did they assign me to a smoker’s course when I gave up smoking 45 years ago? Savings measures. Surely. No more massages in the kur. Old people need to be more mobile, need to move. The health cure system has been revamped and the focus is all on age management. Teach the old people to take care of their health. Movement is the best medicine. Okay, okay, but most of my colleagues here are complaining that they could do all these things at home. They want a massage. Yes, even the doctor confirmed to me that she had many complaints. Everyone wants a massage. They have been basically cut. Only a few during the whole three week period. Focus is on joy in movement. Very worthy. But really, smoking prevention when I have already demonstrated my commitment in that direction. I would really rather have a massage thank you very much.