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MY PERFECT DAY
*I leave my house calmly, confidently, freshly showered, and on time…with BOTH earrings in my ears.
Reality: I leave the house in my typical Navy Seal Covert Operation style hoping to avoid 15 minutes of snot and bawling (the kids-not me). My appearance is lightly askew, I am running 5 minutes late, and I am rockin the Hot Mess look.
*I would go about my day casually and confidently, meeting with high-powered clients, lunching with muckety-mucks, working million-dollar deals with ease.
*After casual noshing and making money while I think, I make a quick stop at the High End Grocery Store for a few things I am craving.
Reality: I race through the Discount Big Box Grocery at light-speed. My grocery essentials /unnecessary purchases-packed shopping cart transforms to a Land Speeder as I attempt to get through the store quickly and not prolong the agony any longer than we have to. And to get home before my Lean Cuisines thaw.
*As I cavort, network, and make bouko bucks, there’s not a hair out-of-place, my feet don’t sweat, my pits don’t stink and even my toots smell of lavender and money. I am as fresh and vibrant as a lotus blossom.
*Once home I would sit a moment and enjoy a “spot-o-tea,” (served to me by my hunky man-servant, Fabio) survey my kingdom with the smug satisfaction and that the housekeeper once again has done a great job and making my palatial estate neat and beautiful.
Reality: I pause for a Diet Coke (from the can since there are no clean glasses), survey a house that looks like wolves live there, and remind myself to never leave Daddy in charge again. Supper is whatever was leftover from last night because I am Over.It.
*The chef makes a perfectly delightful meal that has the perfect combo of “let’s eat healthy” and “more chocolate-dripping treats please.” Life is good. And my pants are not even tight afterwards.
*I prepare for bedtime as the nanny
wrestles coaxes the children into bed. Story reading hour consists of books I have written (all best-sellers of course) and my beloved little cherubs fall asleep without so much of a squeak of protest.
*After my nightly relaxation massage, I climb into my State-o-The-Art Sleep Number Bed with my neatly pressed, high-thread-count Egyptian Cotton bed sheets and sink into the bliss of clean sheets and a big fluffy comforter.
Reality: I spent 15 minutes making my bed “sleep-able” by scraping off the potato chip crumbs, removing countless naked Barbies and shoving 4 bushels of stuffed animals off to the side. My “relaxation” routine consists of wine and reruns of American Pickers.
What does your Perfect Day look like?
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