How awesome would that be?
Someone to wake me up, bring me tea, remind me of my days agenda. My breakfast will be ready once I have showered and dressed.
The maid will do a quick curtsy and call me “ma’am”. I imagine a British accent. And a uniform.
OH! And one of those little hats!
She’ll do the dishes and fold my laundry. Dust the house
Feed Lulu treats. Feed ME treats.
How amazing would that be?!
Because I hate cleaning my house…and it’s just me!
I hate to cook! And those who know and love me KNOW I have a bad habit of turning on the stove and walking away. I’m not a bad cook. Just an absent minded one.
Though I do make a pretty tasty bowl of cereal! If I remember that milk has an expiration date. And use it BEFORE that date.
A maid would be awesome!
Someone to watch over my erratic habits that, while adorable, are not good for me!
Like being wide awake till 4 am.
(I really need to get better at going to bed the same day I wake up.)
Someone to remind me to eat a decent meal at a decent time so I’m not stuffing my face at midnight because I was busy doing that writing thing I like to do and forgot to eat for several hours and NO chips and dip is NOT a real meal and I really need to stop feeding them to Lulu.
(Do you know I made a grilled cheese at 3am the other morning? Well…actually I made 2. A burnt one and then a not burnt one. My bad!)
It would just be nice to not have to be an adult anymore. Because this is not as fun as I was lead to believe it would be!
OH! Let’s go back to when I was 6! I got to play with knock-off Barbies. Someone else cleaned the house and did my laundry. (I never ran out of clean undies!) I was fed on a very regular basis some very good food. And someone else took care of my hair. What else could anyone want??
Okay. Know what this sounds like I need?
Less a maid and more a mother.
And that’s a huge HELL NO!
Did not work out very well.
Left me with a lot more issues than just a dusty house and burnt pans. Left me with a running mental monolog that still causes me severe self esteem issues while I deal with my childish need for approval and an obsession with bacon.
And honestly my hair is much cuter when I take care of it.
My sisters were always in charge of dressing me and keeping my hair out of my eyes.
Know how they did all of that?
Dressed me in boys jeans, polyester dress pants and men’s t-shirts in various shades of brown, green and navy.
Bad childhood memories are why the color navy makes my skin burn like holy water on Satan!
And we won’t discuss the massacre of what they did to my hair. Just this side of bald. Thank god it grew back.
And you all wonder why I am snottily meticulous when it comes to my being a fabulous Diva!
Grow up being told you are too chubby to wear cute clothes. That only Kmart has clothes that would fit you because they have a husky boys section. And no Pamela Plump you have too fat of feet for those cute shoes so here are some men’s sneakers.
Spend your childhood being reminded you aren’t pretty like your sisters so you don’t need pretty clothes. Not like anyone will want to date you. You just be quiet and your sisters will find some suitable things for you to wear. What?? Makeup?? Are you joking? Oh sweetie! That would be a waste on you. Pearls on a pig! No one is going to notice you anyway!
Whoa Nelly! Where the flying fuck did all of THAT come from?
Wasn’t I talking about wanting a maid?? (Scrolling back…yep! I was and then got derailed.Sigh!)
Yeah! Never mind! I’ve got this!
I am going to go do my dishes. Run a Swiffer duster-thingy over the visible dust particles. And pick up those dog toys I keep tripping over. (Three days in a row! Damn squeaky monkey!)
I am going to finish my laundry. Put away all my pretty clothes. And I will make sure all of my very cute shoes are hanging on the rack behind the door.
I’ll hit Pinterest for some new hair color ideas. (I am in love with this new burgundy color!)
Look at some makeup tutorials on Instagram because-well-MAKEUP!
And I will remind myself that I am an adult and I can get my rump to bed at a decent time for a change. AND make a decent meal without burning it.
Remind myself that I am stronger than those memories. I am in control of who I want to be and how I want to dress and what dreams I want to chase while wearing fabulous shoes and not a damn stitch of navy in my wardrobe!
I will love myself because sometimes the people who were SUPPOSED to love me….forgot.
See? I do not need a maid after all!
I just need me!
Peace my lovelies!
I am comically and tragically pissed off about things.
In my defense...I was left unsupervised.
In my defense...I was left unsupervised.
Bizarre thoughts from author Jenny Lawson - Like Mother Teresa, only better.
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