ElderChicks

It is indeed a truism: “Woman’s work is never done.” At least for this woman. It isn’t done because I simply don’t do it. Oh, let me amend that–I do what I need to do: clean the bathroom, kitchen, dispose of the kitties’ litter each morning and evening, and make the bed sometime during the day. Now, why do I do that? Make the bed, I mean. I’m only going to unmake it when I go to bed at night. Same thing with the dishes. They get dirty; I wash them, and then they get dirty again. And we do know about laundry, don’t we, ladies? I put off doing any work as long as I can. I still have things to be ironed in my basket from 1959. A few of my ex-husband’s shirts, size three and one outfits from my sons (yes, I did iron them in the past), and a size 4 pair of slacks of mine (OMG! Was I ever that small?).

I’m still working on my dissertation even though I passed the defense of it in 1982, and I suspect it is archived in some microfilm form somewhere. It took me almost ten years to finish the research for it, and then I still had more I could do. I have seven books, three plays, several poems, and heaven knows how many letters to various editors of newspapers and ex-lovers (hah!) on my computer. They’re not done. My paintings from thirty or more years ago are hanging on my walls–I never really finished them. Tomorrow and tomorrow . . . I’ll finish whatever tomorrow. I am going to play Words with Friends now, and I rarely get to finish a game because my opponents finish first. Have a good …