Don't get me wrong, I'm really enjoying what I'm doing, the chance to use my skills in a more productive fashion. The opportunity to put on a suit and real heels. Volunteering at G's kindergarten class is certainly rewarding but after so many years at the school, I can still barely figure out how to make 120 double-sided copy booklets without chewing up a dozen sheets and jamming the photocopier twice.
Working from home is really the best arrangement, and this was always the plan. But rushing around my suburban neighbourhood the last little while, absorbing the sights and sounds of ...
well, not much really, except other mini-driving moms on the road chauffeuring their kids back and forth, doing the groceries, loading up at the newest Costco that just opened up ...
So it was only natural that a few recent observations seemed to link up in some cosmic fashion that suggested a potential second vocation for me.
Numero uno: Aradia fitness - this pole-dancing studio opened up not far from me a while ago, and I pass by it on a daily basis.
La deuxieme: I had to pick up some milk early on the weekend and made a quick drive to the Walmart. What did I see there at 9 AM on a Saturday morning? A girl walking into the store on the arm of her boyfriend, wearing these beauties:
The third sign: The stripper dip move in Bodyjam release 34, performed to Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" , which I am trying to perfect.
Stop laughing, I'm really getting there. Just ask Hubby, who happened to pop into the gym studio briefly on the weekend and watch approvingly while I was gyrating to Sean Paul...
(basement parties I've been to have never been that fun ...)
Wow, to be young, hot, able to dance like that and hold the power.
But as I sit here on my 40-something ass, having my coffee after downing a couple of Ibuprofen to combat the aching hips that almost hip-hopped- out at last night's workout, I've decided. I should just get back into my home office, to the data and mounds of paper that await.