The United States Army used to air a commercial that showed soldiers jumping out of planes in full combat gear. The voiceover pronounced “We do more before 9 am than most people do all day.” Right.
The US Army hasn’t yet beheld The List of the working mother.
Last Friday before 9 am I: packed 3 lunches-taking care to not mix up the ham sandwich with cheese and the ham sandwich without cheese, answered emails, made 3 rooms of beds, did a load of laundry, walked the dog, expertly flat-ironed my hair, dressed in less than a minute, picked up my repaired laptop, dropped off gym shorts at my teenager’s school, got the oil changed in my car, gassed-up, got a car wash, met the technician for our neighborhood water system for which I am treasurer and dropped off a chair to be re-upholstered. Then I went to my office.
I got it all done because it was on The List. European Debt Crisis? Bring it on.
I have a cousin that will not go to sleep at night before making The List for the next day. Actually she has two lists: one for herself and one for her husband. Then there is my good friend who has two Blackberries with coordinating calendars: Work Appointments, Children’s Activities, Social Obligations and Personal Appointments. She has a detailed list of how not to get them confused. Another friend sends her husband Outlook appointments for sex. “This is how I solved the argument over ‘the last time’ we did it.” She says. “He’s happy and I’m prepared.” We have become Girl Scouts with Iphones. Steve Jobs may have done more for women than the burning of bras did.
I know the Women’s Movement gave us something more than the ability to structure our days like manic OCD sufferers; post feminist suffragettes. But I’m too tired from organizing to think of one right now.
Let’s ditch the bras and wear bustiers like Wonder Woman. On her list? Kick butt all day, reign in the bad guys and acquire nicely tanned shoulders without strap marks.