Barbie vs. Cassondra

While driving home tonight, sitting at a stop light fighting the seat belt because it is completely crushing my right boob and then bypassing my big gut that can only be likened to a 8 month maternity bump, I see this woman jogging.  Let's call her "Barbie."  She's jogging, her perfect ponytail bouncing side to side gleefully as she jogs with her cute spandex shorts, sports bra, perky boobs and sassy Sketcher Shape Ups.  I instantly hate her and everything she stands for.  She looks perfect.  I bet she is on her evening jog and is heading home to her perfect house to her husband, Ken, and their two kids, Skipper and Theodore and their dog Sir Kensington. 

Barbie probably got up this morning, before the alarm clock went off, sat right up with only slightly mussed up hair and put on her workout clothes.  She did Zumba with all her girlfriends, then some hot yoga.  She came home, showered, picked something, probably Ann Taylor, out of her walk-in closet in a size two and got ready for the day.  She probably took Sir Kensington for a walk and then took Skipper and Theodore to school. Barbie listens to talk radio to keep up on the hot topics while she drives.
Skipper has cheer-leading practice tonight and Theodore needs to work on his science project.  They are good kids. She will pick them up later. Ken probably got up and went to work early.  He's a rocket scientist and it's going to be a long day for him, he is the lead scientist at his lab.  Mid-day Barbie talks to the housekeeper, Betty, and works out a shopping list. She stops and catches her reflection in the fridge door, damn, she looks good. Then the gardner, Hector, shows up and Barbie and Hector get busy in the bungalow by the pool.  Barbie takes another shower and goes for her jog.  That's when I spot her.

If we parallel this to my life, here is how my day goes:

My alarm goes off.  I hit the snooze. It goes off again, I hit it again.  Then I lay there and listen to the Jackie & Bender show.  The discussion turns to someone sucking some sort of puss out of someone else's toe. It's riveting. I make an attempt to sit up and fail. I do some sort of maneuver that looks similar to a fish trying to flip itself back into a lake after getting on the shore by accident.  I shuffle downstairs.  My hair looks like I was on an all night bender.  I shower and go to the closet my clothes are crammed into along with Will's.  I go through several items before I find the outfit that makes me look the least fat. I kick the dogs outside to go to the bathroom and feed the horses.  I leave for work later than I want.  I stop for a hot chocolate, nonetheless. I drive to work where I glare at everyone on the way to my desk. You have to get the vibe out that you want to be left alone from the start.  Don't chat with me, I'm busy.  At lunch, I go the microwave and stand in line like a lemming to warm my left over spagetti.  I catch my reflection in the napkin dispenser. Damn, when did my hair start to look like that? Rough. I return to my desk. At some point I will have an outburst or a breakdown, but overall, I survive and no hostages taken, so the day is a success.  Then, I go sit in rush hour traffic. Traffic sucks and I identify all the stupid people and cuss at them, it passes the time.  I get home to my loving dogs who's biggest accomplishment was licking their ass, getting into the garbage and chewing on any shoes that may have been left out in error.  Spanky comes and licks me in the face with breath that smells like the ass of something dead.  He runs his tongue up my nose and across my lips. It's the most action I've seen all day.  If Will gets home first, he tries to kiss me first so that he doesn't get sloppy seconds. 

The night is almost at it's climax as we discuss what will be for dinner, "what do you want for dinner?"  "I don't care, what do you want?" And so it goes.  Then comes the discussion about whether it's gonna be the Military channel or So You Think You Can Dance.  It's a stalemate, so we end up watching Bones or NCIS.  Inevitably Will falls asleep on the couch since his alarm goes off at 3 freaking 30 AM in the morning.

All in all considered, I didn't diddle with anyone in the bungalow, I don't have a housekeeper or a gardner, but I think I will keep my life.  I wouldn't mind having Barbie's boobs though.