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Fairy Godmother

It's hot and huumid, and I just wrote 2800 words for a story due this week.

I have to pick up The Rabbit, drop off the dry cleaning, stop by the grocery store and find something to slop together for dinner.

My shirt is stretched out, I don't even know where my lipstick is. A fly the size of a kumquat just attacked me, and I have callouses on my feet that have measurable depth.

My brain is fried, my hair kinked out into snarls and my breath corrupted from too much coffee.

I need a pedicure. I need screens on my windows. I need a popsicle.

I need a fairy godmother. All reasonable applicants considered.

Comments

Kate B. said…
honey, you need a wife.
9:32 pm
Manhattan Mama said…
Seriously.
2:44 am
Lynne@Oberon said…
Sometimes I lay awake at night fantasing about having a housekeeper (of the live-in variety). Thinking of all the jobs I could hand over always puts me to sleep with a smile on my face ... but then again a wife would work just as well.
6:38 am
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