On My Own

This morning, I decided to take out the trash on my way to work. As I was walking out the door, I bumped into one of my neighbors on her way to her car. “Why don’t you just have your husband take out the garbage?” she asked, quite innocently.

What I wanted to do was set down the bag and admonish her sternly for her insensitive attitude. In this modern age of feminine independence, I am more than allowed to survive without a man. Yes, I am single. I take out my own trash. I also change light bulbs, unclog drains, assemble bookshelves, and perform a myriad of other odd jobs around the house which would traditionally be considered masculine territory.

I did not say all of this to the poor girl. Instead, I merely smiled and told her that I am not married. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said.

That was when I really almost lost it. Why was she sorry for me? Because God had not made me to be a tall, skinny blonde? I’m so grateful He didn’t! Instead, He blessed me with intelligence, capability, and determination. If anything, I feel sorry for this girl.

Most days, I am incredibly grateful that when I get home from work I don’t have to cook if I don’t want to—unlike my neighbor. I also don’t have twice as much laundry to wash. So many aspects of my life are absurdly simplified by the absence of a man. I’m doing quite well on my own, thank you very much. Frankly, it’s going to take a freaking awesome guy to change anything in my life. We’re talking as awesome as Daniel Craig, at least.

... and PS, my future husband can expect to take the trash out.