I hate housework.

Really, that's why god made maids.  When I was raising kids it seemed to have a purpose beyond the work itself, if only trying to keep chaos at bay.  Now that I'm the only one who cares, it gets harder to motivate myself, because as it turns out, I don't care.

  Upon becoming disabled and becoming a househusband I have come to one of the fears that housewives from times past such as my mom and aunts had. Something I never gave a thought in times past.

  My wife supports me. I am no longer qualified for any decent job. Not even for a lousy job.

  I think that now I understand how dependant wives were on their husbands. It gives me a better look at how wives may have feared their husband getting sick or losing their jobs. Kind of a rather constant uneasy feeling of helplessness.

  This also helps me get a feeling of how some women in the Islamic countries may have felt or possibly still feel. Those who lose their husband and have no male members to support them in Taliban controlled areas of the world.

  Quite the change for someone that used to be a male chauvinist.

I had always thought that I'd make a fine housespouse until I read what you wrote, Del. I could not live with that feeling.

I may be needing "mother's little helper" this week (I think that was Valium).  Julie was so dead tired yesterday we didn't get out of the house.  We had planned on having a nice lunch or just spending some time together - away from the house.  Of course, she's away from the house all the time, while the only time I'm away is when I hop on my bike.  But she was beat.

Yesterday the A/C finally lost the battle (and probably the remainder of the freon).  It wasn't all that hot but it just couldn't keep up.  When I felt the air coming out of the register, it was warm.  So I turned it off.  Today it's supposed to be 93.  I'm thinking this is beginning to sound like a psychological torture test - isolation, high heat & humidity, no means of real escape (you always have to return), all over an extended period of time.  POW?  Or am I becoming a Stepford Wife?

Naps in the afternoon are awesome way better then valium.  If you can, try it.

I made it through the week and I'm not yet a Stepford Wife.  Hell, yesterday we actually played a round of golf, with two other real humans, two guys they paired us up with.  I think they paired themselves off with each of us.  Julie with the athletic younger guy and I with the older not-yet-retired-but-should-be guy. 

And today after we run some errands it's Mexican and Margaritas!    Stepford will have to wait.

You need a scooter girl!  Every woman should have a motorscooter, and a cordless drill. 
The cordless drill is for fixing things yourself when there are no cute guys (or girls) you can ask to help.

Karen.