Is it just me, or have women engineered our lives so that we have no time at all?
See, we have rights and we can work and vote and do all those great things. Super! I’m excited to be alive in this time, really I am. But why does having permission to be considered equal to men translate into women suddenly being superheroes?
Because I am, ya know. Sometimes I lie back against my fluffy pillows at the end of the day and just sit there, dazed at how much I could pack into a day. And I’m not bragging, because I’m not pretending to do it well or anything. But somehow, it’s totally legit for women to figure out how to pack in work, family time, exercise, errands, logistics (don’t get me started on how much we plan), general hygiene, and oh so much more in one day. Every day. Relentlessly.
I’m not necessarily complaining, mainly because I’m lazy and tired and don’t feel like opening that can of worms right now. I’ll open it next week. I’m just trying to explain how I wound up baking when I had no time. These bars, to be exact.