Sunday, January 15, 2023

Retiring Is For the Young

Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.
Mr. Rogers

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."
Mark Twain

Thou shalt stand up in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly, and thou shalt fear thy God: I am the Lord. 
Leviticus 19;32

Clear? Huh! Why a four-year-old child could understand this report! Run out and find me a four-year-old child, I can't make head or tail of it.
―Groucho Marx

According to the Israel National Insurance Institute, I am old. 

I recently received documents in my mailbox outside of my house that I have to fill out with a pen, and then fax to the NII so that I can receive a pension for old people. 

The National Insurance Institute is such a boomer.

That being said, I am officially retiring from my employment at the end of the month. 

In what is a paradox, in order to retire, you have to have the energy of a 4-year-old. 

About six months ago, I sent an email to the Department of Human Resources asking how I begin the process of retirement. I had to send half a dozen emails before anyone responded. Eventually, they called me on the telephone (!) and said that I didn't have to tell my boss for a few months but they would begin the process for me. 

Wonderful! I thought. 

Two months later, I informed my boss and the Person Who Actually Runs the Department (the PWARD).  Ok, they said, but have you informed HR? 

"OF COURSE!" I said, "two months ago. They are beginning the process. But I would appreciate it if you didn't tell the rest of the department just yet. We have time."

A few weeks went by. I was busy (or not) at work. 

And then I was called in by the PWARD. 

"You did tell HR about your intention to retire, didn't you?"

"Of course, three months ago. I have the emails to prove it. Why?"

"They don't know anything about it". 

Obvs. 

By this time, there were less than three months to go. 

But there was still time. 

I swung into action.

By this I mean I sent out another email to HR demanding to retire. 

Several emails and telephone messages (over the course of two weeks) later, I finally received a phone call from a person who sounded about 12 years old, that yes, the process had now begun; I would be invited to a 'how to retire' workshop, a meeting with the head of HR to discuss rights and benefits, and I owed the company 1000 Shekel because they paid me in advance for some benefit or other and now they just found out I was leaving. This last was said really really fast. 

It turns out that the older one is, the more other people sound like they are 12 years old. 

Six weeks before my scheduled retirement, I got my meeting with the head of HR, a lovely woman who handed me a 500-page booklet outlining what I had to do to leave. 

I didn't get my 1000 Shekel back, but I did learn a new Hebrew phrase that has no translation. 

Popular in the army, a tofes (form) tiyulim (excursion, tour, hike) (טופס טיולים) is the form a soldier is given when s/he finishes his/her service. To be discharged from the army, the soldier is required to hike from office to office getting signatures on the form. 


It gives 'Oh the Places You’ll Go’ by Dr. Seuss a whole new meaning. 

I don't know what happens in the army, but here, nobody is ever in the office you need. Ever. 

The most exciting part of the whole retirement procedure so far has been the retirement workshop. 

Starting half an hour late (because old people walk slowly, I suppose), a highly educated and very young social worker spent well over an hour telling us that we were about to enter the best part of our lives. But first, we had to rest. Honest, she said that. 

She also told us that, after a short break (apparently, she was serious about resting), she wanted everyone to introduce themselves and tell everyone where they worked, and share a bit about themselves. 

Despite the chocolate cookies that were offered, I noped it out of there. 

Which brings me to the party I have to throw. 

It is traditional for anyone leaving my department for any reason to a) give a present to each co-worker (there are 40 people in my department, and I just lost 1000 Shekel), and b) throw a party. 
Full disclosure: I am not only cheap, but I hate parties. 

The first part was easy - I gave a donation in the name of the department to a charitable organization. That way, I please nobody except the charitable organization.  

But the party.... Oy. 

I confronted the PWARD. I told her that while I really didn't want any party at all, I understood that it was essential to mark my leaving somehow. I agreed to a modest catered buffet lunch (not a party!!!) for the department. I wasn't going to invite any guests from different departments. I didn't want any speeches, presents, songs, poems, pictures, or videos. 

And I was to send out the invitation, not her. 

She agreed to all my demands. Which, I must say, is very unlike her. 

As I was leaving her office, she piped up "I have a great idea!!! Write one of your funny stories and you can read it! Also, you should invite these 83 people I have listed here from other departments. Also, we'll need to take some pictures of you so we can make a video presentation at the party." 

I noped it out of there.

An hour later, an email invitation went out from the desk of the PWARD inviting everyone to a GOODBYE PARTY for blah blah blah. 

Within a nano-second, I was back in her office deleting that email invitation faster than a 4-year-old can shove a whole cookie into his mouth. 

"I said I would send out the invitation, not you. It is too early. There is still time. I did NOT want to make a big deal out of it," I was seething.

"Just trying to help," she complained. "But I really think you need to...."

I returned to trying to figure out how to proceed with my tofes tiyulim. 



Which is making me old before my time. 

And my time here is rapidly running out. 

I think I need a four-year-old. 








3 comments:

Joan Kahn said...

You are hysterical, Reesa! Good luck getting out of here!

Anonymous said...

Where do you work?

Anonymous said...

I once was an invited speaker at a conference. The company I worked for said that you had to get an OK for the presentation from the people who asked you to do the work - to make sure you weren't giving away any company secrets, and that you should allow 8 weeks for the process.

So, 8 weeks before the conference, I gave the presentation to my boss. He OKd it in a few days. He then sent it to the person (A) who had commissioned the work. It landed on A's desk the day after he left for a 3 week holiday. He OKd it within about 3 days of his return from his holiday. (Not unreasonable.) BUT he had commissioned the work because his superior (B) had asked for it to be done, so B also had to OK it. It landed on B's desk the day after he had left for a 3 week holiday. He OKd it a day or two after he had returned from his holiday - about 3 days before the conference.

(This was in the UK, by the way.)