Okay, now that you are back, this article isn't about yet another facet of my ineptitude, it about the nemesis of all Domestically Challenged people: The Marthas. Those people that can keep their houses clean, their kids fed perfectly balanced meals, their laundry done and folded, and still somehow they have time to bake a pie, make a quilt, and can some jam. Why do I call them Marthas?
Exhibit A: The all-knowing bitch who makes me look bad. Damn you Martha! DAMN YOU! |
Maybe we can sing about how a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down while our house magically cleans itself! |
Bitch, I will stab the perfection out of you! Also, I have crazy eyes! |
I am here to tell you, my mother is not human. She is a reincarnation of Hestia or something...
Did you give all of your super powers to my sister?! I demand answers! Stop laughing at me while I attempt to clean... |
Not to mention, when she comes to my house stuff magically gets done.
She maintains that anyone can do it if they set their mind to it. I beg to differ. I set my mind to it and COMMIT to the goddamn task at hand, yet I end up hours later in the same place wondering what the hell went wrong.
What in the hell happened? I thought I had one load left to do...what do you mean "Where's dinner? I was focused on the task at hand!" |
All in all, Marthas are okay people. They just make you really, really sad about your domestic skills.
Like, all of the sad. ALL OF IT. |
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Also, after staying late at work the first two nights of the week last week, I get this series of texts from my husband on Wednesday:
He is using the power of pig cuteness to lure me home...bastard knows my weakness... |
5 comments:
Yes the Marthas make me ashamed because they confuse me. I used to think that was "normal" and I was somehow failing.
Exactly! Ashamed, confused, and inferior is how I feel...Marthas should feel bad for making us feel like failures.
OK. Secret to admit here. I... am a Martha. I will make the best post stew you've ever had when you thought there was nothing left to eat in your fridge. Although I won't do ironing, I will do all that laundry and attack it aggressively and with gusto and see it as a kind of freakishly fun challenge. Everything has it's place and I see organizing as a mild sexual thrill for me. I joined Pinterest just so I could start a collection of handy organizing tips and have a very full album dedicated to house cleaning tricks/ideas. Two Christmases ago, I asked for a crock pot and a book all about house cleaning, written by the Cleaning Queens (from my favourite TV show, "How Clean is Your House?"). I shit you not.
However... and this gets to the heart of the matter, I might add... I am only in my adorable freakishly fantastic Martha state when I am happy and fulfilled as a person. When I had just started my new job in NB, before the Coworkers of Evil raised their ugly heads at me, I had found a beautiful apartment, a fresh start on life, was independent, not in debt, the world was my oyster. And I CLEANED. Organized. Laundry day was fun for me. Was on top of the world. Weekends were not spent out partying, but rather making sure my little home was as clean and tidy as all possible, and it was FUN, DAMMIT!
But as soon as things started to to go wrong at work, I lost confidence in myself and started feeling like I was less awesome than I had previously thought. I have not yet been able to kick that feeling or recovered from a few nasty life blows sent my way. No I live in a beautiful house, with beautiful things, and a month's worth of laundry is piled all around me. My beautiful, brand new hardwood floors and getting scratched by the copious amounts of cat little r scattered all over it, that I can't be arsed to sweep up. I am losing weight because I can't be bothered to cook for myself, and when I do, it is a sandwich or packaged dinner.
So, I think the true secret to Domestic Divaness isn't just having this inbred skill. I think if you are happy with yourself and your life, this is reflected in your home. If you have depression or low self confidence, your house reflects this mental and emotional state. And dare I add spiritual in there too. This is what's true for me, at least.
Tasha, although I do not have the Martha skills, I do have to say you are correct: I was much better at keeping up with domestic tasks when I had a better job.
That job ended when the economy tanked, then I had two years of unemployment punctuated by fits and bursts of contract work, and now I work somewhere much less desirable. In short, my job sucks ass. I'm always tired, run down, and being made to feel less awesome. I've had my depression starting to rear it's ugly head again too, which sucks because I really had it under control for a while.
But I need to make ends meet and, for now, this is what I have. I hope you will be back to your Martha-like ways soon! <3
Well, Martha made it big once on the stock market. I'd be up for that part, at least! :D
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