Living your best life (to avoid the judgment of others)
Am I the only one that feels the need to impress people that are working at my house? It definitely goes a step beyond just cleaning before the cleaning lady comes. I mean, I feel like any reasonable person would be embarrassed by an inch of scum that sits in their toilets, bras hanging from doorknobs, or a ring of shaven leg hair that sits inside your tub. Who am I kidding? I rarely have time/take the time to properly shave my legs. Do you know how much damage my kids can accomplish in the 10 unsupervised minutes that it takes to shave your legs while you’re in the shower? Usually, I will put some shorts on, realize that I need to shave my legs, and use the electric razor (THAT I KEEP IN MY CAR) so that I can shave in the car when I stop at red lights! Oh the devastation when I shave one leg and it dies before I can get to the other one. Keeping it in my car so I can always have it if I need it but also remembering to take it inside to charge it regularly can be tough. It’s a delicate dance really.
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the workers. More often than not, they do not speak English yet I feel the need to be my best, most productive self. As they are working away, oblivious to what I am doing, I still can’t help but think to myself, “hey, maybe I should do a craft with the kids instead of watching them duke it out Lord of the Flies style over what show to watch on Netflix.” Or “hey, maybe I should be reading books to the baby instead of playing candy crush while he sneaks off to eat the fuzz out from underneath the refrigerator.” And then I finally get the baby down for a nap, and I’m totally thinking they are judging me. Like I assume they are thinking maybe I should tackle that sinkful of dishes instead of eating my salad out of a Tupperware container while I work a jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table. I just can’t help but think that people that showed up at my house at 8am ready to work may be a little put off when a grown woman is still in her pajamas at 2 pm. I’ve honestly considered learning Spanish so I can tell if they are talking bad about me. I mean, I haven’t managed to fold that basketful of clothes on the couch but learning a whole new language definitely sounds feasible!
We are trying to get our house ready to sell so there will be workers here all week doing one thing or another. I made it through one day, but it is highly doubtful that I will be able to keep up this charade of someone who wears real clothes, doesn’t turn the TV on, and speaks in a soothing, therapeutic tone to her children. I give it 2 days and I’ll be back to watching Jane the Virgin on my phone and eating cereal straight from the box, while the kids run amuck and the baby lays all over me, shoving his hands down my shirt!
Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the workers. More often than not, they do not speak English yet I feel the need to be my best, most productive self. As they are working away, oblivious to what I am doing, I still can’t help but think to myself, “hey, maybe I should do a craft with the kids instead of watching them duke it out Lord of the Flies style over what show to watch on Netflix.” Or “hey, maybe I should be reading books to the baby instead of playing candy crush while he sneaks off to eat the fuzz out from underneath the refrigerator.” And then I finally get the baby down for a nap, and I’m totally thinking they are judging me. Like I assume they are thinking maybe I should tackle that sinkful of dishes instead of eating my salad out of a Tupperware container while I work a jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table. I just can’t help but think that people that showed up at my house at 8am ready to work may be a little put off when a grown woman is still in her pajamas at 2 pm. I’ve honestly considered learning Spanish so I can tell if they are talking bad about me. I mean, I haven’t managed to fold that basketful of clothes on the couch but learning a whole new language definitely sounds feasible!
We are trying to get our house ready to sell so there will be workers here all week doing one thing or another. I made it through one day, but it is highly doubtful that I will be able to keep up this charade of someone who wears real clothes, doesn’t turn the TV on, and speaks in a soothing, therapeutic tone to her children. I give it 2 days and I’ll be back to watching Jane the Virgin on my phone and eating cereal straight from the box, while the kids run amuck and the baby lays all over me, shoving his hands down my shirt!
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