A man had to have made this standard....

Everyone has a place or time that seems to inspire their best thinking. Mine, of all places, happens to be the shower.

So, imagine if you will, I’m in the shower – No scratch that. No need to traumatize myself by knowing that random folks are visualizing me in the shower, and no need to traumatize random folks with said vision. Just know that I was in the shower. That should be enough for anyone.

Ok, I’m in the shower this morning and received my blogging inspiration for the day. Now, here it is just for you.

The weather had me so excited yesterday. I found myself thinking about how I couldn’t wait to get out my flip flops and my Capri pants, my lightweight skirts and dresses and all my pretty spring and summer colors.

Then, as I stood in the shower this morning, (again you are not permitted mental images here) it occurred to me all the things I needed to do to be prepared for all the cuteness that was coming up. I need to buy blades for my other razor since I’ll be shaving twice a week instead of twice a….well, more often anyway. I need to go through all my nail polish and make sure I had good spring and summer colors. I need a pedicure. I need to be more diligent with the lotion. I need to….

Wait a frickin frackin minute! What the heck is wrong with me? What the heck is wrong with women everywhere? What narcissistic, neurotic, masochistic princess of a witch decided that women had to go through all this crap? Who in the world stood in the shower one morning and said, “OOH! I know! I’m going to shave all the hair off my legs. Woo Hoo!!”

Do any of you ladies remember being a pre-teen girl and thinking about how you couldn’t wait to shave your legs? All that excitement and now, what do you think when you know it’s time to shave your legs? How many days out of the month do you wear jeans when it’s 100 plus degrees outside because you couldn’t bear the thought of shaving your legs?

How many times have you put tennis shoes on your sweaty feet because your pedicure was chipped? How many times have you grabbed a hair clip or rubber band because you weren’t about to spend 20 minutes sweating and melting under a hair dryer to achieve hair greatness that would only collapse the second you stepped outside into 100% humidity?

STOP. THE. BUS! Don’t you dare look at me and ask, “What about bathing suits?” I spend 10 minutes a day in the summer obsessing about whether or not the water was the right temperature to keep me from getting razor burn, or is my blade new enough to keep me from nicking myself, should I put lotion on immediately after getting out of the shower, or should I wait a few minutes….now you want me to take a sharp blade, capable of inflicting serious injury or death, and put it WHERE? To do WHAT?

And all of that still isn’t enough? You mean, additionally, I also have to scrub my feet every day with a chunk of rock, spend ridiculous amounts of money on a makeup that won’t run with the sweat pouring down my face AND? AND? AND?

That’s still not enough? I STILL have to wear a bra? I have to wear little strappy sandals that pinch my toes and rub blisters on my feet? I have to slather on sunscreen underneath the layers of already greasy makeup so I don’t burn my precious skin and risk developing wrinkles and sunspots? Then, after the layers of crap on my face clog my pores and cause breakouts you want me to apply more chemicals to it so those said blemishes will disappear? I have to take a pair of tweezers and yank hair from my face because someone said a unibrow wasn’t acceptable? I have to sweat under layers of restrictive armor underneath all my summer clothes to rearrange every part of my body into a socially acceptable shape? Because some status quo says my butt is too wide, my belly is too round or my breasts aren’t perky enough?

Pfft…and men say they don’t understand why we’re so darn cranky and moody all the time. Jackwagons…