Sometimes it feels like I am the only one with Calpol spunked on my face
Is it me does everyone seem to be a bit more on top of stuff than me? I often leave a social situation with a little knot in my tummy and a voice in my head that says ‘why aren’t I more like them?’ I construct these fantastical images of everyone else’s perfect lives . It’s a bit bonkers, but here’s what I imagine ‘Perfect Woman’ is up to:
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She has regular, exciting sex. Never the ‘now I’ll put my PJs back on’ sort.
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Exercises 4 times a week.
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Has a range of fun, stylish activewear. Her sports-bra hasn’t got a bent out of shape hook that jabs in her back.
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Knows a fab beautician who not only does THE BEST mani/pedi/wax, she is pleasantly chatty but not excessively talkative.
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Subscribes to a wine club which they consume in moderation. Perfect Woman wouldn’t dream of making her husband dash to Tesco Metro in his PJs to get an average but overpriced bottle of vino.
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Has got a 5 year plan (if not a 10 year one). Which her and her partner enjoyed writing together
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Irons stuff.
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Is always thrilled with gifts. She wouldn’t dream of setting impossibly high standards that ultimately mean she is eternally disappointed with anyone elses choice of gift.
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Eats a variety of meals. No repetitive weekly menus for this house-hold.
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Perfect woman and her partner don’t find themselves eating with a random collection of cutlery. (A few remains of a set which were a wedding gift. The majority are one from the work kitchen that have randomly found there way home. And in really dire times colourful plastic Ikea ones).
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Also, where possible, they like to have a ready supply of delicious bits and bobs in stock ‘just in case’: nice cheeses, olives, perhaps a homemade dip. That sort of thing.
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Of course her Tupperware is a) fantastic b) the perfect size for the occasion c) is always stored neatly.
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She never gets so hungry that she has to eat peanut butter straight the jar.
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Or cleans stain off her jumper with a baby-wipe.
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Perfect woman wears lovely undies.
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Perfect woman regularly re-soles her shoes.
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And always has clothes altered so they fit her ‘just right’.
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She tones. And exfoliates. Her through beauty regime is what’s helping her retain her looks. That and drinking gallons of water and green tea.
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Her children sleep 7-7. Occasionally even longer!
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She reads the Sunday papers. Without a hangover. In nice pajamas. It goes without saying that she will always have changed the toddlers nappy first. She’d never let them waddle around till nearly 10 am.
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Has savings. For a rainy day. Or life ‘little emergencies’. No running out money at the of every month for this sensible soul.
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And a drinks cabinets. With drinks you might actually want to drink in it.
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Meets friends and partakes in full conversations.
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She is genuinely well informed about the goings on in the world. Rather than trying pass off second-hand knowledge she has gleaned by scrolling through social media.
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Has the perfect wardrobe for every occasion. She invests in a combination of timeless classics and versatile, on-trend seasonal up dates.
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And a specific pocket in her bag for her phone, that she always remembers use. That way she never has to scramble around for it like a nutter or battle the momentary fear that SHE HAS LOST IT!!
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Perfect woman has been practicing mindfulness. Meaning that she is very ‘present’. She throughly enjoys the moment.
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Perfect women isn’t busy looking at other people and fantasising about their lives. That would be mental.
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And then again maybe perfect woman is a bit dull. She doesn’t like a gin too much. And she’s definitely hasn’t laughed so much that a) she has snorted b) she has pissed herself. Or cried so snot came out of her nose. And that is her loss.
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Because if imperfect means fun, passionate, exciting, ad hoc, trying-your-best, flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants then surely that’s better than perfect?…
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Though I am planning on upgrading my storage containers to these Joseph Joseph bad boys. Look at them! Surely they are the first step towards becoming a little bit perfect...
5 Comments
I literally do or have none of that. But I do have calpol spunked all over my walls. Which, by the way, stains!!
she doesn’t exist. I’m doing well if I wash my hair and get myself to work on time. Extra points if I remember the homework.
Love this. Nodded my way through your list. You are not alone 😘😂 I’d only add ‘laughs politely at the right moments and never at the entirely inappropriate ones’ Who’d do that??!
Nothing like that feeling the first hour you wear a brand new slightly out of your price range item of clothing you’d been fantasising about for a good while. You walk around smugly and proudly thinking to yourself ‘finally I am that woman!! All I needed was this 60 pound t shirt from cos!!’ About 90 minutes in you look down and realise there’s shit on it (literal or figurative) and are brought right back down to earth.
Awesome post!!!