Monday, March 30, 2009

Confessions of a desperate housewife

Not desperate as in "I lust after the FedEx man" desperate, more like "It's probably time for a hobby" desperate.

Ah - Independence, sanity, identity... I vaguely remember these things. I'm pretty sure they disappeared right around the time the epidural kicked in.

Want to hear an embarrassing confession? Sure you do. A couple weeks ago, when I was brushing my teeth before bed, I came to the shocking realization that I hadn't left the house. In. Three. Days. Oh god, my cheeks are red. Now, this really isn't the norm for me, but I have to say it was a wake up call.

As they say, drastic times call for drastic measures. So off to the YMCA I went. I signed myself up for 2 free exercise classes and 1 knitting class. I'm pretty sure the embarrassment of sweating and stumbling over cardio moves in front of a mirror and several fellow classmates can come nowhere close to the humiliation I felt upon realizing that I spent roughly 20 minutes a day for three days in a row flat ironing my hair so that I could neurotically clean my house and teach Kelan to eat with a fork.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Ah, yes. Sounds all too familiar. Good for you for getting out and doing something, though!