Monday, December 3, 2007

Sleeping with my eyes open

I am so tired lately I don't know how I'm managing to type sentences that are spelled correctly. My days are filled with unpacking, dressing tiny streakers, making PB and J, letting the dogs in and out of the house, and doing enough laundry to fill a Suburban. Too bad we're now on a water meter...

How did those ladies of the 1950's do it? They wore neatly pressed dresses and high heels, played bridge while their kids ran around the yard, and knew how to make Jello molds for every season of the year. Sure, they didn't (couldn't) hold down jobs, write blogs, or even drive their kids to school, but they had to be busy, too, right? Where did they have the time to iron? In high heels? I haven't even touched my iron (except to unpack it) in the last three years. And my hands are so dry from doing dishes night and day that I'd run any pair of pantyhose I'd try to put on. I just wonder sometimes how they looked so put together. Today we seem to run into each other in the store with crazed looks in our eyes, frantically pulling stuff from shelves and dumping it into our carts while we hold our toddlers by the collar and pray they don't start screaming.

Because those elderly women who did it all in the 50's will give us the look of death.

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