Back in the day I was a rebellious, punk rock loving rule breaker intent on taking the world by storm.
This past Sunday I spent a few hours making and packing up food to feed my husband and I through all of our workdays this week. I did some laundry, vacuumed and tidied my home. The irony did not escape me. When did this happen? The transition from world taker to domesticated adult was slow and subtle, almost happening while I was busy daydreaming about the future I now inhabit.
So you can no doubt understand how it seems to be without warning that things like this happen on an otherwise perfectly normal Sunday afternoon:
Which turns into:
And finally resolves as:
So after I’ve spent my day making lunches for an entire week of work as a story editor making television that is easily digestible by a world with a short attention span, you might ask yourself, where do I find myself?
I find myself here:
And so it goes. We go along to get along.
We allow the need to survive and the desire to lead a life fraught with material things and status to overtake our childlike ideals.
And you know what? Its not so bad. I like having a tasty lunch I prepared for myself out of food I bought and cooked rather than having spent extra money on mass marketed and processed junk.
So while I spend a few hours on Sunday playing the domestic game I can choose to look at it as my little way of sticking it to the corporate man. Take that California Pizza Kitchen, you’re not getting my $14. I’m saving up for something bigger and better. Could be tickets to see Tool, could be a house. You think I’m gonna tell you?