Happiness comes from practicing gratefulness.
I’ve seen my friends on Facebook posting “What I’m grateful for today”. That’s all well and good and I hope it makes them feel better about their shitty little lives. I don’t buy it. Because, if you’re a woman who grew up in middle class America , your life is probably a shitfest.
Let’s start with the most alarming of these shit stains that men leave for us to clean in their laundry. No, it’s not the never ending laundryfest that is the Bane of my Existence. I’ll leave that for another spewfest. It’s not even the fact that we get paid 70 cents on the dollar than men do, although it does involve this alarming trend. It’s the fact that we’re EXPECTED to work and have kids and take care of said children and grocery shop and do laundry and keep the house clean and and and. It never ends. Vacation? Hell no, I used all my vacation days on sick children. House not clean? That’s all my fault and I will be judged for it. Pregnant? Too bad if you need a rest, you need to KEEP UP or lose your job. Up all night with a sick child? Refer back to pregnancy clause.
Job security? There’s no such thing. You can be a model employee for years and still be fired for no reason. It’s best when we realize we have no power and that it might be best if we concentrate on either having a family OR a career. I lost my job and career in 2009, right in the middle of the Great Recession. I was an x-ray technologist and was making about $45 an hour working weekend 12 hour shifts at a hospital. Talk about a TOUGH job. But I did it for almost 8 years with fibromyalgia (undiagnosed at the time), with a severely handicapped child at home and through my 3rd pregnancy. Don’t forget to KEEP UP. So, there went half our income and our health insurance. That was an awful, panicky time. And don’t expect social services to help because they don’t look at what you’ve lost, like our middle class life style (basically we fell from middle class to poor in an instant), they only look at what you have now. My husband’s income is too much to get help, but too little to support us. And the beat goes on.
Tag, you’re it, Dummy.