I am a stay at home, professional, on call, housewife. The hubs and I have no kids, unless you count the cat. My mom does so we do.
When I am not being the all around quintessential 1950’s housewife…okay, okay. No one in their right (or wrong) mind could ever confuse me for a 1950’s housewife. For starters, I’m sitting here with my purple hair up in a greasy ponytail and no makeup on. I’m also wearing flannel and Doc Marten’s. I look like a modern day grunge girl. That’s my aesthetic.
What? It makes me happy.
Not the greasy hair part though. I have to scrub the shower later and I’m not doing that with clean hair.
But I digress.
My day to day life is fairly simple. Since we recently moved from Memphis, TN to Dallas, TX, I am in the market for a new place of employment. I spend my morning drinking copious amounts of hot tea and searching for jobs. After a few hours of that I make some kind of meal and surf the interwebs for a little while. And by surf the interwebs I mean I play around on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
This is usually when I decide whether or not its worth it to go outside and pick up food for dinner. The answer varies on a day to day basis. I guess kinda want grilled cheese for dinner tonight. So that means I’m going to the store.
After errand running its chore time. This is usually dishes. Possibly laundry. Maybe a quick run through with the vacuum. Two people plus one house equals not a lot of chores. Unless company is coming, then there are all the chores.
Somewhere in my day I eat lunch. Possibly do a craft. A craft can be anything from working on my embroidery skills to practicing my hand lettering to making felt Christmas ornaments. I also make click clackity sounds on the keyboard by typing up a blog post or two…or four.
I like to get ahead.
Then, if we aren’t going out for our evening nourishment, I will cook. Sometimes its grilled cheese. Sometimes it’s handmade mac and cheese. Maybe it’ll be Steak and fresh veg. It all depends on what is at the store that day, between my local market and the farmers market I go to, I am not hurting for choices.
What do you know, maybe I am a 50’s housewife.
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