So it happened. You had kids, you took time off work, you went back to work, your workplace didn’t manage your return well, you finally broke one day and went down to the fish market and bought a giant whole trout and left it on your desk first thing in the morning and never went back in the office again.
Now you’re a housewife. Frankly, with the cost of childcare, travel, work clothes, work lunches, and work nights out, not to mention the dogwalker and the cleaner, you were only breaking even anyway. Now you get to be your own person, take care of your family, make . . . jam? People do that, right?
Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know how to keep your house the way Patricia did. You don’t know how to keep your kids entertained the way Ellie did. You don’t know how to keep your dog from chasing foxes onto the railroad tracks the way Kris did.
I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me. I’m suddenly a housewife. And I’ve gone freaking haywire. Join me on my journey of trying to figure out what the hell is going on.