Tag Archives: women

Celebrating the amazing capacity of women?


I’m cleaning out my email. One of my personal ones has 421 unread messages and 632 just hanging out in there. Ugh. It makes me feel cluttered. (At least it’s not work…there I confess I have 514 unread and a whopping 2,917 in my inbox. Holy hell!) In my quest to get our schedules lined up for the next few months, I got distracted by email volume. I swear, I was looking for an email about a birthday party…when I came across an email from Atheta. You know, a Gap brand. I love their work out wear. I envision myself wearing their cute outfits as I work out. Whenever the hell that will be. I walked a mile on the treadmill tonight. It was hard and it’s a huge accomplishment. Can I now justify buying cute new exercise pants? Maybe.

Regardless, the email subject made me stop. It’s “Power to the She: Celebrating the Amazing Capacity of Women”. I read it and did NOT feel inspired. I felt angry. Cluttered, stressed, overwhelmed and just plain angry.

As women we do have a huge capacity. To love, to organize, to keep things afloat, to keep people together, to get things done. But instead of celebrating our “huge capacity”, I’m trying to organize my digital life and our home life, plan two trips and get all four people in my household’s calendars merged. NOT an easy task. My dear husband is sitting next to me, playing a game on his computer. He’s shooting stuff as a space-age weirdo. Vegging out.

Not to say he didn’t earn it. Today he hung me beautiful new shelves in our bar for our SuperBowl party tomorrow (see?)Bar shelving, glass holder, liquor storageand helped to clean the whole house. Elia was high maintenance today and demanded to be held, so we each did our parts. But while he takes a break, I worked out and keep going with planning. Am I insane? Driven? Do I suck at relaxing? Nope, I think it’s that I’m a woman. I do not relax well, and I feel like waking hours are precious. Bill on the other hand is playing a game. Or bonding with his daughter? You be the judge.

Goofing off or bonding?

Maybe it’s better to be a man.