I refuse to call myself a plain and boring housewife; so you might as well just call me a domestic goddess. Being married and moving to a new home was challenging for me. I had to adjust to a new environment and a totally different set up.
Back when I was in California, I worked as a Physical Therapist. When I moved in Florida, I learned about the policies regarding the practice of Physical Therapy here; and that I needed to take a different state licensure examination to qualify for the job.
Battle of Wits and Decisions
While learning the ropes here in Fort Lauderdale and getting acquainted with my new lifestyle, I decided to work from home as a part-time virtual assistant for a medical transcription company. However, it wasn’t enough to keep me busy since I was only required to work for four hours per day or 20 hours per week.
With so much time in my hands, it became a battle of wits and decisions for me. My mind and body wasn’t engineered for domestic housework and I wanted a career; but my options are so limited. So I started to explore other interests to make my life somewhat fun and interesting given the situation.
Disclaimer: I’m not trying to validate my actions and behavior as a seemingly bored and immature wife. I just wanted to provide you a full picture of my circumstances.
My Confessions as Domestic Goddess
I like to entertain myself
Most of the time, my husband comes home late because he has to work for extended hours. Being home all alone can be quite boring and lonely. Sometimes, Netflix and books won’t do the tricks. So what does an impatient and naughty domestic goddess who doesn’t cook, sew and knit do? I feed my curiosity and blame my crazy friends for introducing the chatlines.
Yes, I’m confessing to you, right here and now, that I called the singles chatline website a couple of times because I was lonely. Honestly, I actually had fun talking to that guy stranger because he sounded so sincere and genuine. I would also like to confess that I liked the experience. It was fun and liberating. Thankfully, it ended without leaving a trace as soon as I hung up.
Cooking means scratching off the labels
At the end of the day, when my husband comes home from work, I serve him with dinner which I bought from nearby stores. Of course I pretended that I cooked by reheating everything and throwing away the evidence. The farthest I could go with my cooking is boiling some pasta and pouring store-bought bottled sauce over it.
I also buy ready-made/ready-to-eat salads and dressing which I wittily transfer to a nice serving dish to make it seem like I made some effort. Lighting some candles and pouring some wine can do the trick.
I blocked a person in my husband’s social media account
A wife’s got to do what she got …