I often hope that because I had my own little career I will be able to relate a little better to the office politics and hours my husband puts in. I will appreciate that meeting scheduled for 4pm because I had plenty of those that meant deadlines and getting home at 8pm that night. I totally remember that life, working hard to build/ keep your reputation and to get things done. To not be the guy they all complained about at review time who left at 5pm every day and took too long to return emails or voicemails. The guy who didn't balance it well and never got promoted. Never wanted to be that guy, nor married to that guy.
And even though I twirled with the corporate dance, I still have blank moments as a housewife when it's all faded and gone from my memory. Moments when I am in the middle of a phone conversation telling my husband about how I burned the grilled cheese when he suddenly has to go. Even though I know logically he truly does have a meeting in 2 minutes or his boss has walked into his office and is giving him the stare-down to drop what you are doing to converse now, my mind ignores the logic.
The quick 'have to go' always leaves me hanging with wild imaginations. I sit on the couch with a dead phone and imagine what must really be going on in that office. I think just then the office stripper makes her rounds to offer free lap dances for all high performing workers. She is given strict direction to bypass the slackers sitting on the phone. It's like the rule of sleeping the night of Christmas Eve, you didn't want to be passed up.
Yeah, so each abruptly ended phone call leaves me seeing the same long-legged Playboy Bunny strutting through his office as he staightens up in his seat, sneakily placing the phone down. She always wears fishnet stockings, red lipstick and really bouncy, blonde curls.
Sometimes being a housewife can make you a little, oh......shall I say CRAZY?
