The inner workings of a troubled mind.

Getting ready or getting stressed.

For a woman, getting ready for a special occasion is kind of like a ritual, a ceremony. It can be a long one or a short one, depending on the notice and how much time is allowed for preparations.

I don't speak for all women, I am not qualified to do that. I am however, qualified to speak for myself and the lovely women I know.  I am going to talk about myself for two reasons. Reason number one: this is my blog and I can do that. Reason number two: to compare the difference between my sisters primping ritual and mine.
Why you ask? I don't have a good answer for that but there is a science to it. I've been thinking and talking about science all day. Mr. Percy Goodfellow has provided me with interesting notions on the science of writing. This back and forth we had going, made me think of how there is a science to a woman preparing  to go out.

Let me back track to this morning after I purchased tickets for a local comedy show in my area.
After signing off my computer and performing a tiny celebratory dance, I compiled a mental list of things to be done around the house. Whats for dinner, how much time it will take me to complete, what outfit I will wear, who will watch the kids, how my hair and makeup will be done, and what accessories will go with my outfit. This is all on the assumption that my husband will be wearing what I lay out for him. If he doesn't, I have a couple backup outfits stored for emergencies.  Some of you women know what I'm talking about. It's all about preparation and time management. This is another issue. Time. I don't have much of it, so if I want to look my best in the shortest amount of time, I have to plan way ahead, like six hours ahead.
So I start my day, taking care of household duties, feeding my son, and preparing all the ingredients for dinner so I can throw them together and make a meal later.
Then it's dishes, feed the dog and fish, lay out my clothes, make the beds, blah blah boring stuff. Then jump online real quick to respond to some emails before I hop in the shower.

Hair and makeup time. Make up has to wait, because an unexpected visitor comes.  I have to stop blow drying my hair and settle for air dry instead and hope it's a perfect wave kind of day.  An hour later the visitor leaves and I give up on my hair, it's a perfect friz kind of day and I plan to fix it later. My husband comes home and decides he is going to put up the bunk beds we bought for the kids today and guess who has to help him. OH JOY! Two hours later I'm bitching because I'm sweaty and late picking up my daughter from school, but glad I didn't get to the makeup part yet.

Next is another shower and start dinner. It's going to be an early dinner tonight.  Get the kids overnight bags packed, just in case, and check on my husband who is still building the bunk beds. By this time I am contemplating on staying home because I know I will be rushing in the end and I won't look like the woman I imagined in my head this morning.
I remind myself that I already purchased the tickets and to NOT call my friends and offer them a night out on me. A fellow poet and blogger, Mia, reminded me that a little play is good for the writing soul.  I need to play.

So I leave for this night of laughter and hopefully a few libations in two and a half hours. My husband is almost finished with the beds and the kids bellies are full. All I have to do is clean up the pile of sawdust, screws and spare parts (OH NO!) and hope I can pull off a kick ass look.

Now for the comparison. My sister. A single independent working woman. How she prepares for the same night out.

Comes home from work, showers, dries her hair, sets it in curlers, dresses and eats at the same time, lets her hair out, curls it again with hot iron, pins it up in a cute way, and spends the next few hours doing her makeup and nails.
Tonight when we meet up, she will look like a million bucks and I will look like a stressed out million bucks.

I hope they have good wine, or whiskey... whatever.