I’ve Always Wanted To Be a Housewife

According to eDiets.com, washing windows for 30 minutes will burn about 150 calories.

Earlier  I thought about raw fast food chicken soaked in ammonia, so I ordered a double cheeseburger and fries. If you get McDonald’s, take the long way home. We think we’re invisible to others when we drive. Blast that Katy Perry song you pretend you don’t know all the words to. Wipe the grease on your jeans.  Imagine the calories  saved forgoing Coke for Dasani.  Do not check yourself in the rearview. Never leave evidence in your car.  Better yet, throw the bag away at a gas station.

I  have anxiety  over how often I bought gasoline this week— 3 times. I can’t let the gauge drop below a half tank. I fear of stalling out in a jam. Are we still boycotting BP?  I regularly panic that I have a flat tire when I’m really veering off the lane onto the rumble strip. Podcasts make commutes easier, hearing poets read.

When I think about electronic publications such as PANK, I get excited that my work is housed in these venues because online magazines are inevitable, growing. I love finding other writers and feel inspired from what people are doing with multimedia. I embrace technology, although the accessibility and instantaneousness of it gives way for the quips you’d expect in YouTube comments. So far I’ve escaped shitty remarks about my work. I’ve received criticism, which I appreciate and want. Still— Why are so many writers negative? Why are so many writers obsessed with their own faces? Writers should stop kicking each other in the balls. We should be cupping one another’s balls because support is comforting and there are enough uncomforting things to deal with.

I am uncomfortable with the amount of TV shows that cover desperate-real-gay-football-bridezilla-housewives. And pregnant teens. Anyone feigning for season 3 of RuPaul’s Drag Race?