This woman's work is never done

I've had a cold for about a week now. I tried drinking it away and everything, but so far nothing has helped, for some reason. I'm very very tired.

So, as I sat here earlier, feeling like hell, even though I had slept all day, contemplating the three dinners that I would be making this evening, I was reminded of the saying "A woman's work is never done," which then reminded me of the "Women’s Rights Manifesto" that we used to share back in my college days of radical feminism and clinic defense. You can tell from the language that this is old, but I still think it's cool. Wish I knew the original source but I have no idea, sorry:

Because woman's work is never done
and is underpaid or unpaid or boring or
repetitious and we're the first to get fired
and what we look like is more important
than what we do and if we get raped it's
our fault and if we get beaten we must have
provoked it and if we raise our voices we're
nagging bitches and if we enjoy sex we're
nymphos and if we don't we're frigid and if
we love women it's because we can't get a
"real" man and if we ask our doctor too many
questions we're neurotic and/or pushy and
if we expect childcare we're selfish and if we
stand up for our rights we're aggressive and
"unfeminine" and if we don't we're typical
weak females and if we want to get married
we're out to trap a man and if we don't we're
unnatural and because we still can't get an
adequate safe contraceptive but men can walk
on the moon and if we can't cope or don't
want a pregnancy we're made to feel
guilty about abortion and...for lots and lots
of other reasons we are part of the
women's liberation movement.

So, then, later, I was in the kitchen making dinner #1, and I somehow managed to rip off half of the thumbnail on my right hand while opening a can. I'm honestly not entirely sure how that happened, but MAN was it ugly. And I sat there looking at my mangled finger and wondering how the hell I was going to put it back together, and I was once again reminded of the saying "A woman's work is never done," but this time it was in song form:





So, now I sit here, with my thumb all bandaged up, because luckily hubs is home (hence the three dinners, instead of the usual two) and came to my rescue with neosporin and tape (later? Crazy Glue. He might as well just start calling himself a doctor) and I'm having a terribly difficult time typing, because of the bandage. And also the pain. And I'm wondering how I'm going to work with my thumb like this, and Child 2 has noticed that Child 1 has gotten dinner but he hasn't yet, and he has some "questions," and again, I'm reminded of the saying "A woman's work is never done."

I'm strangely calm for some reason, I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm just too tired and sick to do anything else.

Yeah. Good Times.

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