The galloping housewife has had a rough start to the year. There’s that hideous no-man’s land between Christmas and New Year which is useful for nothing. You loll around the house eating leftovers and partaking in 10am drinking because it’s the one time that it seems to be socially acceptable and, seriously, what else would you do with your time? You have no idea what day of the week it is and even if you did know, it wouldn’t do you any good because everything useful is shut. The sensible people are on holiday, but the galloping housewife isn’t because she has horses and the last vet bill cleaned out the Maldives account. You promised a bunch of people that you’d catch up during this time, but then that time is now and no, just no. Christmas Day jollies and pretending to care has the galloping housewife completely peopled out.
New Year’s happens and most galloping housewives are in bed before 10 – the last countdown they stayed up for was the millennium. The second and third of January scrape by in a daze of essential communication only and suddenly it’s the weekend before shit gets real. It’s 2020! New Year, new DECADE even!! (Actually, it’s not a new decade – that in fact occurs in 2021 – even kindergarteners know we start counting from one, but it’s in the Daily Mail, so it must be real…) This is the year you’re going to Get Stuff Done. You’re going to be the best version of you, you’re going to start a new business or move yards or have the best garden on the block or get involved with your kids’ school. Not New Year’s resolutions, this is your life!
Yeah, well, about that. The galloping housewife hit the office on Monday. Her ‘inbox zero’ was groaning with ‘oh so important’ emails from people who insisted they be replied to immediately and spam from a million different businesses that promised a whole new life in a single mouse tap. There were reports to fill out and bills to pay. Business opportunities to follow up and colleagues demands to fulfil. It’s tax season. There are requests for help from previously outed askholes – the people who ask for help and then do the exact opposite of what you advise. There are people pushing boundaries, changing plans at the last minute or wanting the galloping housewife to do things that she simply doesn’t do. Like answer the phone. There’s a horse needing rehomed, a person asking her to find a job and another wanting promotion out of the goodness of the galloping housewife’s heart. She can promise you that by the time she got to that one, there was no goodness left.
The galloping housewife battled through yet woke up on Tuesday with an overwhelming sense of the blahs. Which is when she remembered her single resolution for 2020. To be selfish. To take care of number one. The last three years have been a whirlwind of bad shit happening, of people being disingenuous and deceitful and of others taking advantage of the galloping housewife’s desire to make other people feel better. Not this year. This year is about having fun, about seeing friends and going on dates, about spending money on the galloping housewife’s wants and massages and horses and training and going to shows. It’s about saying no and deleting and blocking and setting boundaries and bugger those that don’t like it. The only people who get upset when you set boundaries are those who benefitted from you having none.
It’s not that the galloping housewife is going to ignore the outside world completely. It’s just that she’s going to pick her causes and manage her caseload. If you’re a week into the decade and already feel like giving up, then feel free to follow suit. Remember to put your own oxygen mask on first.