The HaplessHousehusband: A Fantasy Life...

So, I've been at this househusbanding thing for a few months now. The mistakes are slowly fading. On most tasks, the screwed-it-up to successfully accomplished ratio is in the acceptable range, and She-who-is-adored seems happy. Clothes are now cleaned and put away, as she likes. There is a hot meal on the table when she comes home. The war on cobwebs continues unabated, and the strange stuff that ends up on the kitchen floor is a daily challenge, but on the whole, the house is clean.

So, job done?

Well, no. And therein lies the main issue with being a domestic diva. It never ends. It never, ever, stops. It is one relentless beast, and worst of all, it is soul crushingly boring. This is just a few months in, for crying out loud! How do all those women do it? The only thing that could possibly explain it is that they are all to dang busy to even think about it. Two small kids plus the house leaves approximately two nanoseconds a week available for thought. And this is a job that needs done, not thought about.

And it is so far from my dream job...

International jet-setting, important, and very rich guy, is the general idea. (James Bond, minus all the maiming and killing.) I dream of going through airports to subtle nods from officials who all know me, and darn it, respect me. Hundreds of people sleep easier at night thanks to my efforts, and, if were not for my astounding modesty, I'd be collecting medals and awards daily.

Yes, well, not so much.

Oh sure, it happens all day long, in my head. My imagination runs riot as I immerse myself in yet another menial task. I can speak several languages, so (while vacuuming) I converse with my imaginary partners and adversaries in French or German. Not really knowing Spanish as well as I should, does not stop me. If I don't know the word, I'll add a heavy dose of accent to the English one, and I'm quite OK with that. In this way I can add Arab sheiks and Russian mafia guys to my repertoire.

I am able to rationalize this behavior as practice, as I do dabble in the world of voice- overs and one (the hub was better than the experience: http://hubpages.com/hub/10-Acting-The-Fool) foray into the world of acting. There is also a reasonable chance that I am losing it.

I know I should not complain, as my lot is considerably better than many. I do get to escape to my computer and write, and I am allowed to play with my hub friends all day long. There is a welcome group of people who consider me funny, though I suspect that the people who think I should be locked up, don't, on the whole, leave comments on your hub.

So, the beds are made. I did a couple of hours decoration, went to Costco to load up on toilet paper, and am now treating myself to coffee and a write.

Of course there are things I should be doing, but dinner is planned, the log is in the fireplace and everything needs vacuumed, but it can wait.

Time to dream. Now, I have been very patient thus far, faithfully putting my hubs out and earning those little accolades. (Totally stars on the bottom of your work from teacher, but who doesn't completely love them?) By now, some media guru is supposed to have read my stuff, gasped in wonder, and sent a man with a huge check to my door. Oh, you too, huh? No, I check the affiliate settings and see that I have amassed just over twenty-six dollars. That's fifty cents a hub, or by my reckoning twenty cents an hour.

It's realizations like that that drive me to looking, very seriously at the, "make a million bucks a week, all you need is a computer and a couple of working brain cells," sites. Fortunately, my head still works, so I check everything on scam sites before sending my credit card into the Internet ether. Interesting that the sites that are scams have the first page on the scam sites all to themselves. Don't be lazy. Look further down. Find a real person who, though embarrassed, is brave enough to explain how they have lost their hard earned cash.

And freelance writing...I bid for a job at $25 an hour and was trumped by someone offering to do five pieces of over 1000 words for twenty bucks!

I'd rather do the laundry, including folding all the stuff, than be so undervalued.

It would appear that the old adage, give a million monkeys’ typewriters and eventually they would write Shakespeare plays, is at work here. Strange adage though, I’d have thought there would be a lot more writing on big rosy butts and bananas, not so much on fake European history. But then what do I know, I’m only worth twenty cents an hour.

Oh, and while I’m rambling. What is up with dusting? I’m pretty sure the dust is just stirred with air and after doing a few lazy cartwheels; lands right back where it was. I use a Swiffer that supposedly attracts the dust, but I did it in bright sunlight the other day and could practically see the dust motes laughing at me. And, is there a proper rule on whether you vacuum or dust first? Both seem perfectly capable of redistributing dust quite effectively.

Sadly, this is what passes for philosophy in the domestic arena. So far I have received some very helpful hints from the pros, and ladies I am very grateful. In fact I’m humbled. This looking after a home might be far harder than the international man of mystery thing…

If you enjoy this hub, please check out my book,

Homo Domesticus; A Life Interrupted By Housework,

A collection of my best writings woven into a narrative on a very strange year in my life.

Available directly from:

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/homo-domesticus/12217500

Chris