The Glamorous Life of a Twenty-Something Working Girl

The other day, a colleague said to me, "If I didn't have kids, I'd want your life, it seems pretty glamorous."

I smiled coyly, and said "Well thank you, it certainly doesn't suck." But in my head I repeated a single word. Glamorous?

I thought of that this morning as I scrambled to get out the door, already 20+ minutes late for work. And again when I came home to matching piles of kitty vomit on the drafting table and my bedroom floor (and later discovered a bonus batch in the closet). 

Yes, the glamourous life of the steadfast bachelorette. Full of laundry and dishes, bills and lawn care. I compost. I weed. And on rare occasions, I have to stick my hand in the drain to see if the disposal is stuck. So much for that perfect manicure. 

But in subtle ways she has a point. I eat out whenever I want, which is often. I buy clothes for myself rather than kids who grow out of them too quickly to even realize it. I don't need to make appointments at the dentist simply to get some alone time. Any spit-up on my clothes is my own. And this very evening, instead of coming home from work and making treats for a school trip, I came home from the bar and dyed my hair pink.*

So my life may not be glamourous, but it sure is fabulous. 


*This has been a struggling work in progress. So, for the record, Manic Panic worked great! We'll see how it holds.