Day 9 of rollback-California Covid spike-Governor shuts us down

Retired today…

Tuesday. 7/21/20

Class enrollment is at 6…

7:30 - 9:00 - It’s finally here! Today, I’m processing out and separating from state service! I’m retiring! I take the dog out and she poops and pees outside. Cheese. I make coffee and take it upstairs. Shower and a full face of make-up, because I want to look nice for my last day - I don’t know what to expect. I wear jeans and a knit black top with a cool, Chanel-looking mask that I purchased in March. It covers my neck which means this type of mask is called a “gaiter” mask. Why do they have such a stupid name?

9:00-10:15 - I make sure I have everything I need, to include my retirement forms, and head to work. Today will be the last time I drive my state vehicle. It’s a 2019 hybrid Toyota Camry with heated seats, much nicer than my personal vehicle. I’ll miss it, but not the constant upkeep and the fact that I’ve had to store it in my garage all this time, at the expense of my personal vehicle, which bakes in the sun and collects dust. I leave the Ralph Lauren umbrella that I’ve always carried in my state vehicle, because the same umbrella was in the first state vehicle I received 18 years ago. I’m passing the torch…er, umbrella to the next investigator assigned to my car.

10:15 - 10:45 - I arrive and the parking lot is full - ALL of my colleagues are there. There’s a staff meeting today, but I thought they were going to Skype in??? I don’t want to be in a crowded office. I walk in and when I get to my cubicle, my Supervisor asks me to come into the conference room. Staff is there and my supervisor presents me with a beautiful Bulova clock engraved with Congratulations: [name] 2020. There’s also a box of gourmet cupcakes and I get to pick the first one - chocolate with sprinkles and amazing!

11:00- 12:30 - I have a subject interview at 11:00, via conference call, and the allegation is sexual misconduct. The suspect is a psychiatrist who engaged in sexual misconduct with a female patient. I personally interviewed this patient, at length in March, in her home, right before the country shut down for Covid-19. The Medical Consultant and I conduct the interview and when the MC’s done with her questions, I ask mine, and I get him to confess! It’s kind of a swan-song and a great way to go out as I’m an Investigator, after all - the MC is most impressed and tells me so. She was hired recently, but we’ve had approximately 5 interviews together and I’m going to miss her.

12:30 - 1:30 - Our Commander arrived earlier to conduct a staff meeting and they are having the meeting in the hallway directly outside of the conference room as the MC and I exit. I should note that ALL of my colleagues are now masking - it’s as if a switch was flipped - and everyone says they like my mask. Staff convene in the conference room and I begin the arduous task of inventorying equipment I’ve received over the past 18 years. Apparently, the State wants it all back.

-I’m largely finished with my inventory, but have a few final loose ends to tie up with my remaining cases. I text L. and tell her I will probably be done at 2:00 (she’s my ride because I’m leaving the state vehicle behind). The Commander speaks to me before she leaves and has nothing but positive things to say. She seems heartfelt and genuine, but it’s hard to tell because she and I are masking. In fact, all of this is so bizarre. Historically, when people retire at this agency, they have a last lunch or dinner with staff or a few co-workers they ‘gelled’ with throughout their career. That’s impossible now, because there’s no outside dining in the nearby vicinity and none of us want to leave the office anyway. It is very odd to retire under such low-key circumstances but, strangely, it’s also what I wanted as I hate being the center of attention.

-My Commander gives me a lovely paperweight with my badge number and title, as well as commemorating my years of state service. I’m extremely touched by this personal gift.

1:30-2:30 - I go over all of the retirement forms with my supervisor and he seems as lost as I am about the forms, although he’s a wonderful person and working for him has been an absolute pleasure. He’s completely chill about the inventory and doesn’t have to verify the actual items I’ve checked off as “Return” on the list. Handing him my gun and my badge is bittersweet as I’m certain HR will f- - k up the return of my new retirement badge, as a result of Covid-19. I’m resigned to the fact that my retired law enforcement credentials will never be issued to me, although I completed the form and scanned the head shots (pictures) for my ID that L. took this morning to yet another HR analyst for processing.

-We’re done with the inventory and I note that the State wants my tactical pants and raid jacket back, along with the extra canister of OC spray I was issued 4 years ago. Those things are at home and I have to return these items tomorrow (sigh).

-My supervisor and I go over my last six cases (I was originally assigned 30, but worked them down) - and I give him the backstory on each one and where they’re at investigation-wise. Three of them are at Expert and the remaining three are almost complete. I’m cognizant that L. is waiting in the Crab Shack restaurant parking lot for me and I’m thinking, “Hurry, hurry” as we go through everything.

2:45-3:45 - We finish, my supervisor wishes me well, and I collect my backpack, lunch bag, and leave. I’m on foot and walk about a block to the Crab Shack. As I start walking across the parking lot, L. yells from the car window, “Who’s that sexy retiree?”

Home and L. has purchased a beautiful bouquet and a box of Sees candy for me to commemorate my retirement! She is such a thoughtful daughter! I ask her to go to happy hour (3:00-7:00) with me, at Olive Terrace, so I can celebrate, and she agrees.

4:30 - 6:30 - At Olive Terrace, even though there is plenty of outdoor seating, the hostess asks for my first and last name and my phone number. I don’t understand - I’m not making a reservation, I’m being seated. Unnerved, I ask her if she wanted my information for contact tracing as she seats us at a table outside. She says, “No, nothing like that. We’re just keeping a record of our customers in case there’s a Covid-19 outbreak so we can call you.” In other words, yes, we’re taking your personal information for contact tracing. I do not. like. this., although L. says she thinks it’s great that the restaurant is being so proactive. Really? Why is this a positive? And why is my fave restaurant the only establishment that is writing down personal information? Chick-fil-A doesn’t do that.

Ever since I left the office, I have this strange feeling that I’m forgetting something important or missing something. B. says this is normal when you turn in your badge and gun because after so many years of ensuring that the badge and gun are ‘on your person’ every day, it’s odd when they’re no longer there. I can’t shake this anxiety and hope it will pass.

7:00-9:00 - Home and I take a nap. It was an overwhelming and exhausting day.

9:00-9:30 - I talk to B and he congratulates me on my retirement.

10:00-11:00 - I talk to my parents and they also congratulate me on my retirement. My Mom is going to buy a cake and champagne to celebrate! Yes!

11:00-12:30 - L. and I watch Love After Lockup and scream at the TV.

12:30-1:30 - Nighttime ritual and bed.