Thursday, July 2, 2009
I am not a housewife
But I am also not the wage-earner at present. Even though H-town insists it's my job to focus on creative projects, I feel incredibly guilty about spending the whole day sitting in front of my computer without the immediate promise of a paycheck. Or going out into the field without the immediate promise of a paycheck. (Okay, I feel less guilty about that.)
So I tell myself I ought to take on more of the shopping and cooking and cleaning. The, um, housework? I think they call it.
Some days I get satisfaction out of this. I manage to go to the farmer's market and Trader Joe's.* I (gasp) wash dishes. I feel all wifey and proud of myself.
And some days I feel resentful of the burden I've taken on. I let the dishes pile up.** I warm up chicken taquitos (if I find them in the back of the freezer), which aren't really enough dinner, and we end up hitting the 7-11 for potato chips and ice cream at one am because there's nothing left in the fridge.
There's got to be a happy medium right? I definitely haven't found it. And the bungalow is so small that one day's clutter = a complete mess.
(Image via Hollister Hovey)
*Yeah, Whole Foods has been relegated to specialty items. Still sad about that.
**Note: the idea that I personally have "let the dishes pile up" is all in my head. H-town certainly does not expect me to do more than my share of the housework. In fact, he believes he's a superior dishwasher.