all about me

i'm taking a break from cleaning ...
it's 12:39 on a fine and lovely saturday in my town and i'm cooped up here doing all those stupid tasks that should be done by a merry maid and not by me.

i wish i had a wife... like june cleaver.

a wife would solve all my problems...
she could clean for me, and cook for me, and wash my clothes and iron them for me.
i don't think i would need her to talk to me though.
i would just want her to do stuff.
yep, i need a 50's kind of wife.

it's only in fairy tales though.
my father's mother wasn't that wife and neither was my mother's mother.
i've never met any wife or mother like that.
it's only some television dream.

why do they lie to the average mortal woman?
why do they insist on telling us we can have it all ... and now they seem to have added more.
i'm not getting it.
when am i supposed to have time to have it all?
work takes work time
kids take most of the other time
and then the house takes the rest
and sometimes i get to sleep.

i dunno but i thought some happy, joy joy *me allllll me* time was supposed to happen in there sometime.

i used to know this guy and the only decent thing about him was that he constantly said to me "it's all about you (insert baby or honey or something of the like here)" that was the only decent thing about him ... but it's too bad he didn't mean it. he would say it but then it would always end up being all about him anyway. i guess in retrospect it really wasn't decent if he didn't mean it.

i'm glad that's not the case anymore.
i guess in this life i'm living now i can make it all about me ...
when i find the time sometime