When I quit my job and became a SAHWADANM (Stay-at-home-work-all-day-and-all-night-mom) I quickly came to realize that had joined the cast of women toiling away in a thankless, promotionless, very stinky occupation. But I also realized that I had become Queen of my domain. (Stop it right now all you Seinfeild fans.)
Baring unforeseen tragedy, I vow to never punch another time clock. Dress code, schmess code. And you can take your performance reviews and stick em where the sun don't shine, thank you very much.
I stand in my living room and look out at the world. Terrible things are going on all around us. War, famine, abuse. I can't change these things. I can't even do anything about the port-a-potty my neighbor put in her front yard for the guys she has working for her.
A good queen is a public servant. She works relentlessly to bring peace and prosperity to her land. Queen bees spend their entire life giving birth. Can you even imagine? My friend Rachel has six kids. Maybe she can relate.
These queen bees work day and night. They don't get out much. They hardly have time to brush their hair and heaven knows they never get to go to the bathroom without some other bees hanging around talking their ear off.
If a queen bee is taken from the hive, the hive ceases to exist. Such is her importance.
Being queen doesn't mean I rule my house. No, no. It's quite the opposite. I only wish my people would listen and obey. That's a pipe dream.
Mostly they dictate how the day will go. If I will be allowed a shower or a sit down meal.
But that's okay, because I know that my position here is secure.
Even if my performance reviews suck.