Folks my days are long, arduous, sometimes hot, tiring, crammed…never enough time or is it a case of mis-timing. I clean, I cook, I wash, I clean, I cook, I wash. Sometimes I feel like I should be hissing too…like a pressure cooker about to ‘buss-through’!😖 I’m like a walking, talking combination of a washing machine and dishwasher with a microwave as my accessory. And it’s not like I have children, or animals or even dolls to take care of!😂Housework is crazy hectic! Give me the deadline driven mayhem of corporate office anytime. It is easier being an office ‘go-fetch’ than a domestic donkey!😖 Yuch…I know that sounds ungrateful and ain’t nothing wrong with ‘work’…but it needs ‘modernising’.
Governments have already borrowed terms like ‘Home Office’, ‘Homeland Security’, ‘Home Affairs’. Well it’s time to make it official! Government regulations in the domestic sphere is a must. There is exploitation, no-pay, sexual harassment, 😬 unpaid leave, no sick pay and generally unfair procedures in the home space!🙊😰 Who is regulating for the domestic go-offers?!?😫
I wish!😳 I used to look forward to Christmas office parties. Once a year you got wine and chocolates and time-off to go ‘fake’ Christmas shopping, as well as lots of long lunches, from your ungrateful bosses. How I miss that.🙇🏽 At home, all one has is unpaid work, and no hope whatsoever of promotion. Not even a ‘side move’ where you change departments, but remain on the same pay scale. At home, your only option is either like it or lump it! Marriage, concubine, common law is like being some ‘forever Girl Guide’ living out some fantasy of doing good. Good for whom and for what?! So instead of the sleazy Christmas parties at work, I now am left with partying with the other-half….over Skype!😳 And even though he may be in another country, I still have to negotiate the Christmas decor theme…wary as he is of my ‘bad taste’…and if I’m lucky I get the green light to buy one more string of fairy lights to drape on the aged and out-of-fashion Chritmas tree that we keep up all year long in the kitchen, tucked in a corner, next to the potatoes and onion storage that always leaks and leaves nasty stains, that I have to end up cleaning, because I happen to be living with a potato and onion junkie!😖 I know. Mind you he is also a marshmallow-head….so I get to forage on lots of those!😍
Domestic bliss is very close to domestic hiss……ssss. I wish men, all men, were mandated to do 1 year of cooking, cleaning, washing, dusting, mopping, ironing, washing dishes, making tea, minding children, folding fitted sheets, cleaning refrigerators…as well as work their full-time hustle. The disorganised little diva rats will have to get with the programme and hit the floor running. But no.We don’t demand that of them. In fact we praise and hail them as trophy mates when they keep on the straight and narrow. Like it’s a miracle they haven’t succumbed to some other lady’s or let’s be real…other ladies…secret gardens and their hot-house flowers!!!😱🙀🌹🌺🌸🌻 We women expect to so little and indeed we get the little we ask for.
But it ain’t over till the fat lady sings. And this not-so-fat lady is ready to let it out! Men are indeed from Mars and women are from hot yoga and other stringent weight watching classes, not Venus. I personally find it a nonsense that so many men are dancing with stupidity and refusing to haul their lazy, indulged asses into the 21st century. But hey, if they are indeed from Mars, let’s send them back, repatriate them and reclaim the sisterhood. When we’ve re-established the new rules of engagement, we send for them to come back and be what they were always meant to be…our lady-boys😭…not in the Thai way, folks, not those lady-boys.🤓🙄 Sacre bleu!
Disclaimer: I like boys. I am from this planet. And I lie when I need to make ‘friends’ on the Internet.