On my hands and knees this morning, washing the hardwood kitchen floors with an old 1000-times-washed cotton baby diaper, before work, I began to sweat. The glamorous life popped into my head.
What a glamorous life I’ve led!!
Night before last, I had my hair colored, something I’ve been doing every month for 22 years. I inherited my mom’s early gray. And oh how Tiffany does a beautiful blow out afterward….that I’ve now slept on two nights….and am sweating in.
And oh, yeah, after working all day today, I will be attending The Telling Room’s giant annual gala Glitterati at The Westin, touching shoulders and giving hugs to so many Maine writers and writer-lovers. My tribe.
I’ll be dressing in a fancy outfit…which should be sparkly, glittery….but I just can’t justify buying such a party dress for one evening. My glamorous life doesn’t call for much glitter.
I have a long day ahead.
Beginning with floor washing.
When my babies were small, every Saturday, I cleaned the house top to bottom, religiously.
Now, physically, I can’t even do that. How did I do that?
Now I have to break it down….like washing one floor at a time, weekday mornings.
I consider it exercise.
After doing the rest of my morning chores – laundry, emptying the dishwasher, writing books – I’ll hop into the shower in the last 15 minutes, beautiful hair-do up in a clip and a granny-shower cap, grab a “work” outfit and speed off downtown for another day at the office.
When the boys were little, sometimes I thought that I had done more before arriving at the office than some of the portfolio managers did in an entire day.
The glamorous life.
Paid my bills this morning, wrote the shopping list.