This morning, while waiting for the green light to condone another cup of espresso, I turned to my husband and whispered, “I’m drinking coffee. Willingly. I’m a suburban housewife that drives her TWO kids through the two-lane streets of Jersey. In a minivan. That drinks coffee.” I glanced down at the now deflated foam of my cappuccino. ”What the fuck happened?”
Changes. Woof. So to calm myself down (apparently drinking too much coffee can make you anxious – we coffee novices don’t know these things), I’ve compiled this list of 25 things that were true for 22 year old Manhattan-dwelling, career-having Elly and remain true for 37 year old Jersey-dwelling, lactating Elly.
- I hate Rod Stewart.
- And techno.
- I love a good vagina joke.
- No good can come of being awake at 4am.
- Sometimes refined sugar and caffeine are the solution.
- I need to spend more money on bras.
- There’s no such thing as “too much sleep.”
- When all I want is to enjoy a beer alone, some dude starts ogling my tits and the night ends with me covered in puke.
- There are three men snoring in my bed.
- I don’t wash my sheets often enough.
- If I remember to put on music, the day feels shorter.
- Just not Rod Stewart. Or techno.
- The bulk of my day is spent cleaning up other people’s shit.
- My attention span is somewhat
- I consume entirely too many chicken fingers.
- Taco Bell always sounds like a good idea.
- When the hot water goes, so does all hope for humanity.
- At the end of a long day, I’d rather let Rod Stewart serenade my vagina than return phone calls.
- Meals choices are made based on my ability to eat them cold and with my fingers.
- I say, ”Let’s see what’s in those pants,” surprisingly often.
- Also, “I’m not going to play ‘Where’s Mine Penis’ right now.”
- My bathroom floor is uncomfortably sticky.
- I’d let Rod Stewart serenade my vagina in exchange for an hour alone with a good book.
- I’d rather listen to techno remixes of Rod Stewart songs than face a pregnancy.
- I just might marry the next guy to buy me a nice dinner.
In case that was at all vague earlier, I had another kid. Two boys. Because I never want to sleep again. Obvs.
But? He’s pretty beautiful. And I figured I ought to share with you lovely people…
The latest (and last) thing I made with my vagina.
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It’s undergrad. A novel. An apprenticeship. A marriage. A thesis. A prognosis. A job. A career. A lifetime.
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I need a piece of corn.
Let’s try this again:
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Why yes, I am talking to you, you fetching specimen, you. You.
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All the fingers on my right hand are [...]
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