I've slowly realized that while my siblings and I thought my mom was just kind of lazy and disinterested, she was actually a neo-feminist warrior of equality. Those naps and insisting on filling the pantry with things that nobody eats, like dates and cinnamon-raisin bagels, were actually brave protests against patriarchal hegemony.
So I could be fun, I put on my old pair of Lavers (which I've owned for 8 years!?!) after I got home from work, before I went out drinking. You know what? They were too small. I wore them anyway. And I hadn't cut my toenails in a bit and now I have a sock full of blood. It's just not a positive thing and it's really not something you want to deal with when you get home and there's someone screaming about god knows what to your voicemail and you are beginning to think that your assistant sees through all my crap because I bet she knows how much I make and she looks at me and says "I bet he spends a lot of his money on Twinkies and candy bars and jars of frosting" and I've stopped communicating with her entirely because I think that maybe she'll just forget about me entirely so I just have the interns do the stuff she'd normally do.
