9 days…. after setting a goal of writing every day.
I went to the grocery store today. I’m usually friendly, let the person with less groceries in his cart go ahead. The grocery store line is not so interesting. I haven’t felt good – my insides are turning themselves inside out and I ate about 1/2 of a bag of Cheetos so that grease was lubricating a pipe where my whole grains, strawberries and freshly pressed pineapple juice could block up and pass through. Disgusting, so what?
Anyway there is a point to this post. Waiting in line I decided to stand behind the groceries. The man behind me, dressed in a burgundy pressed dress shirt and shiny black shoes, was getting off work and getting something for his dinner. I thought to myself, He thinks he’s getting extra points in good citizenship land if he gives the overweight housewife instructions on how to check out in a grocery store she has been in a thousand times.
I felt pretty bad about myself. Then I remembered –
I’m not overweight anymore. So what if I was? I’d still deserve some help – even if I looked Valliumed-out. And what if I was “just” a housewife. It’s something an innumerably number of families work thier bottoms off to have – it’s called a “full-time mom” these days anyway. And I’m not “just” a housewife. I’m an artist who regularly sells her work and I’m a writer.
But if I were just a “full-time mom” that would be okay, too. I respect and love many “full-time moms”. I don’t know why I think it’s beneath me.