Womankind – idleness is the devil’s work
It’s great to be a woman in today’s world because we are always busy and never bored. I’m so busy right now I hardly have a minute to write, but no matter, because most of my writing is already written a week ahead of time, which means I just have to push the ‘publish’ button. I rarely do ‘real time.’
Meanwhile I do laundry, wash, dry, fold and put away. When I’m not doing that I fill in with childcare, homework, band aides and kisses goodnight. I have friends that I can call for a chat, people I can meet and always the never ending shopping. I am just like every other busy mum and stay at home parent. I’m so busy that many things back up, so that instead of darning a sock I’ll throw it away and buy a new pair.
I must be a strange spectacle, beetling about my house dressed to the nines amid housewifely duties. I dressed at 5:20 in the morning, all ready for an evening out. I knew then, that it was unlikely that an opportunity to ‘dress for the evening’ would present itself.
The wonder of busyness is that I am occupied and have no time to think. Thinking is generally bad for my mental health, far better to be busy and have no time to dwell. I can scrub my children with a Brillo pad until they sparkle and gleam.
I have been so busy the last few hours that I’m all caught up, even though my spouse isn’t here. I could go into the garden and manicure the lawn with a pair of nail scissors, to occupy my time and stop my brain from whirring.
Maybe it’s time to put something in alphabetical order, some books perhaps, to calm the chaos. Perhaps I could stand with the duster buster in one hand, mid air, with the switch in the on position and catch the microbes before they have time to settle. He’s not here because he’s in England, at his father’s hospital bedside. I don’t expect either of them are doing anything. They are not busy. They can chat if his dad is conscious but other than that, I expect they’re pretty static.
When it is very late and very dark I go to my bedroom, strip off and flop into bed as I am completely out of ‘busy.’ So few short hours between this morning, and now. Men! What do they know? Just give me the chance to tell my father in law how busy I really am, an opportunity to cherish. Maybe if I start hunting now, I might find a sock to darn by morning?
1 comment:
Forget the sock. Could you come to my house and get my life in order? A woman's work...
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