The decorations are down, the seed trays ready for off and the house seems to be breathing out a sigh of
satisfaction after a job well done.
I love Christmas, but that is because I don't perform all the mandatory rituals that used be expected
like eating trifle and watching television until one became blue in the face.
Some people feel unhappy after all the celebrations and work kicks in again. Housewives, if they have any sense,
don't feel let down. As members of the voluntary workforce they can choose when and how to get on with chores,
(or not do them if they are not in the mood), put life before the curse of seeming to reach their potential or achieve
targets and generally enjoy themselves.
If people think that housewives are stupid or unable to get a "proper" job, this is one way of working out
if these critics would make boring company (the usually do), are misogynistic or workaholic or just plain silly.
There is a grotesque proposition that people on this island should be frog-marched to "work". This is
such an 19th century way of thinking. Bill Nighy was on radio recently explaining about how auditions kill the spirit.
"They sense the desperation", he said (or something like that).
Housewives... or for the more PC mind, "domestic engineers" hope never to have to meet "them".
And if there's any tint of blue here today it's because it's difficult to type while wearing gloves...
Labels: back to work, Christmas, domestic, society, work