Tag Archives: women

Multi-Tasking Is Over-Rated

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Such bull-crap

If you’ve noticed, I haven’t been posting much.  When I started out, I was posting once a day.  Now?  Twice a month if I’m lucky.  What gives?  I’ll tell you what gives.

I got a job.  It’s a little retail job.  A little freaking retail job.  Sometimes I put in 20 hours a week sometimes I put in 39.  Still, I can’t figure it all out.  Work and exercise have been put near the top of my priority list.  My house?  Holy Crudola.  Please don’t come here unannounced.  Because if you do, I’m not responsible for what you may contract.  Like Malaria.  Or something nasty along those lines.  I have dust so thick I could probably knit a blanket.  Christmas is 5 months away.  I’m taking orders now.

But I wasn’t talking about not cleaning my house.  I was talking about not writing.  My problem is…here goes:  I Cannot Multi-Task.  There I said it.  I cannot multi-task. Is there a support group for this problem?  “Multi-taskless Women?”  I know.  I’m putting our name to shame.  I think I used to be able to do it.  Maybe not.  Maybe I’ve pretended all these years.  Yes.  I think I’ve been living a lie.

So, at this late stage in the game, I’m trying to figure it out.  Cooking, shopping, cleaning, exercising, working, running around one child, one little child, writing, returning phone calls and projects that have been waiting to get done for months.  Some of them years.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’ve lost touch with reality.  I’ve come so far on so many levels, but can’t seem to fit in the time to write and clean.

What do I do?  Stay up until 1am to write.  So what if I can’t stand at work?  I don’t think they’ll notice.  And my house?  I may have some time in September.  All guests welcome then.  Oh, wait.  I think you should call first.  I’ll meet you in the yard.  Just bring a chair.

Medieval Torture?

Inflict torture on our bodies.  That’s what we women do.  All in the name of Beauty.  Yesterday, as I was sitting in The Threader’s chair, with tears running down my face, little hairs itching my nose and a strong urge to punch the threading broad in the face and take her stupid floss and shove it where the sun don’t shine, I started wondering why we do these things to ourselves.  After I was finished tormenting myself, I walked around looking like I tried to set fire to my face:

photo droopy

(There I go looking like Droopy again.  It’s uncanny, isn’t it?)

Then I got to thinking of all the other things we do for beauty.

Bikini Wax.  I did that.  Once.  About 16 years ago.  On the floor of the living room of my best friend’s apartment.  With 2 towels.  One in my mouth to prevent someone from calling the cops.  And one underneath me so when I bled to death, at least her carpet would be saved.  In retrospect, I probably should have gone to a professional.  It was likely equivalent to asking a butcher to cut my hair (sorry P, I know you tried).  And you women who go full-out and do that brazilian wax number?  If I wore a hat, I’d tip it to you.  You are some brave chicks.  There isn’t enough Holy Water in Jerusalem to get me to do that EVER.

Hair Coloring.  All those chemicals that get rubbed into our scalps.  I won’t highlight my hair but once or twice a year because I’m afraid of developing a brain tumor.  My stylist thinks I’m nuts.  But I remember when Jackie O died.  Everyone kept saying it was because she colored her hair too many times.  That totally freaked me out.  I’d rather walk around looking like Lillian Munster.

Fake Nails.  We ingest more chemicals during that process.  That shit seems so toxic to me.  Yes, I used to go get fake nails put on back before I was married.  But now I’m scared to death of all that.  I’m good with my nubs.  Besides, I can’t really hurt anyone, particularly The Threader, with what I have rockin’ at the end of my phalanges.

Botox, boob jobs, nips, tucks.  It’s endless.  All for what?  So we can look good, of course.  People don’t want to look at our hairy faces, sagging foreheads or breasts that wobble to and fro’.  What’s wrong with embracing our natural beauty?  Apparently, this chick doesn’t agree.  She looks much better now, don’t you think?

Jocelyn-Wildenstein-“Cat-Woman”-Before-After-Plastic-Surgery

Her “before” picture is to the right, believe it or not.  She sure was ugly once.