Edited by Jackie Morris, Tuesday, 11 Feb 2020, 11:33
I have a delightful life. I have two children who no longer fit in prams (they are taller than me) and part of the reason for starting the MA was to fill the hours I have spare in the day (in lieu of, like, paid work, cos like, omg, paid work, sounds scary) because I am lucky enough to be a kept woman (by my long suffering husband).
It’s funny that the ‘pram in the hallway’ came to me, given the hopelessly indulged circumstances I live in. But the family does still come first, particularly given I am not a breadwinner, and it does mean I haven’t even started Module 3 reading yet, because there’s lots of small, unimportant things that have filled the last two days, but if they don’t happen then the well oiled wheels of the family machine start to creak a bit, and my main role in the house is to make sure the wheels remain firmly ‘on’ for everyone. And if I spend too much time rehearsing a play or immersing myself in writing or reading then the wheels don’t stay on. I wouldn’t have the temerity to suggest school or paid work might make way for what I would choose to spend my days doing. It’s not even that the tasks I’ve had take that much time but cumulatively they feel like obstacles to thinking. So I see others posting their thoughts on dramatic monologues in poetry and I don’t have the mental capacity to respond, yet. Although tomorrow is now clear, so I can finally get to it.
I have to stress this is coming from me, not the family, I’m not actually a surrendered wife. But I suppose that’s really what Virginia Woolf was saying, isn’t it?
The pram in the hallway
I have a delightful life. I have two children who no longer fit in prams (they are taller than me) and part of the reason for starting the MA was to fill the hours I have spare in the day (in lieu of, like, paid work, cos like, omg, paid work, sounds scary) because I am lucky enough to be a kept woman (by my long suffering husband).
It’s funny that the ‘pram in the hallway’ came to me, given the hopelessly indulged circumstances I live in. But the family does still come first, particularly given I am not a breadwinner, and it does mean I haven’t even started Module 3 reading yet, because there’s lots of small, unimportant things that have filled the last two days, but if they don’t happen then the well oiled wheels of the family machine start to creak a bit, and my main role in the house is to make sure the wheels remain firmly ‘on’ for everyone. And if I spend too much time rehearsing a play or immersing myself in writing or reading then the wheels don’t stay on. I wouldn’t have the temerity to suggest school or paid work might make way for what I would choose to spend my days doing. It’s not even that the tasks I’ve had take that much time but cumulatively they feel like obstacles to thinking. So I see others posting their thoughts on dramatic monologues in poetry and I don’t have the mental capacity to respond, yet. Although tomorrow is now clear, so I can finally get to it.
I have to stress this is coming from me, not the family, I’m not actually a surrendered wife. But I suppose that’s really what Virginia Woolf was saying, isn’t it?