of envy

After three crazy work-weeks that gave you no time to do anything, you finally have a day entirely to yourself. There is nothing on your to-do list, and you’re cruising along to work, singing loudly and generally feeling happy with life.

But then, you reach office and it is all so mind-numbing & depressing, much like sitting at an airport several hours before departure without so much as a good book to read. What do you do when that happens? You observe other people and try to strike conversations with unlikely candidates.

You realize that people stare at you. A lot. Some of them, mostly women, claim to envy you and admire your courage and wish they had the courage to be the person you are. They say you’re an independent woman in the truest sense of the word.

You live alone and have nobody to please, wear what you want, eat what you want, always look so shiny.

You want to tell them how much it takes to be you, but you know better than that. People only want what you have. They don’t want to make the effort but want all the results.

You also know that they also hate your guts. How dare you, a woman, not be dependent on a man for survival and still be happy? Anyhow, regardless of what they think about you, they think about you. You have decided that all this makes you feel like you’re a celebrity. Hell, if your life is so important, maybe someday someone will make a movie about it!

Advertisements

Published by

anawnimiss

Blogger. Crazy bitch. Stalkee. Weirdo magnet. Wannabe housewife. Corporate Slave. Find me at anawnimiss.wordpress.com!

One thought on “of envy”

Say something. You know you want to!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s