Today that meant painting some walls around the house. A complete change from the past few days spent on a whirlwind trip to Prague and some great concerts. The fun part of life – walking around like the consummate tourist, buy souvenirs, have a coffee in a nice place.
Normally, today would have been a day of rest, but once back we discovered there's literally no place to put up the new posters bought on this trip. The only conceivable option was a wall covered in Angry Birds posters and drawings, which, once taken down revealed the forgotten mess of scribblings dating a few years back when my son was small and entertained himself drawing on the walls.
OK, let's clean this wall. No big deal, three years ago we managed to paint most of the house on our own, so at least we knew what we needed to buy. And since we had enough paint we ended up retouching other walls – part of the kitchen, a bit here, a bit there. It's not a professional job, but the house looks much better and – the most important thing – we didn't have to pay for it! Just me and my daughter, , who provided the entertainment by pretending to be a professional painter, while I played the part of the useless lady of the house!
Those who follow my posts know I'm not a feminist so this isn't about what women can do and how they don't need no help from a man. I would have accepted and even demanded some help, but being a single mother means there's no one I could ask. A very successful woman would've afforded to pay a real worker, but I'm not that either. As it is, we have to decide what we want to spend our money on and my priorities are clear – a family trip to see a once-in-a-lifetime concert, yes, that's justified. Paying someone to do a job we could manage ourselves – that's not something I can accept – at least not at this point in my life. Sure, when cryptos go to the moon I'll pay someone to polish my Lamborghini every day... but, till then...
Since it was a do-it-yourself day, I tried my best to fix the wall around the bathtub to prevent leaks to the downstairs neighbors. I'm still waiting for the stuff to dry to see if it's any good.
Obviously, the main reason to all this work was money, but there's something else to it. I hate women that are too damn delicate to do anything that might be considered a man's job. I'm not talking about lifting a couch here, but simple things like changing a light-bulb or trying to figure out what's wrong with the Internet router. It's a weird combination of helplessness and entitlement that's been drilled into their brains. Like waiting for the husband to take care of the weeds in the garden, even if the woman herself does not work. Yes, she'd have plenty of time to take care of the job, but... that's a man's work! And lots of men buy into this as it gives them the opportunity to feel macho! 'Look, honey, I changed the light-bulb for you. You can rely on me!'
The wall is now clean enough to display these phenomenal posters we bought in Prague!
Now that the job is done, we can look forward to relaxing in front of the TV watching a football game, beer in hand – just like some very tired handymen would do! I'm not crazy about football, but it's the World Cup after all. And with all the betting and the contests on Steemit, the games are even more interesting. All the women in my family enjoy a good game … and beer!