Back when I was working a regular full-time job I used to fantasize about the unemployed life. I thought that, in my heart of hearts, I'd actually be perfectly content to stay home and keep house and let my hypothetical husband support me. (Only if there were no kids, though.) It sounded pretty sweet to me; housework wouldn't take too long if I did a little every day, and I could spend the rest of my time reading, writing, going to lunch, and shopping for and preparing delicious gourmet dinners.

This semester is about as close to that as I'm probably ever going to get, and let me tell you, it is not all I thought it would be, not by any means. I am teaching one class and taking two, and while that does take up a fair amount of my time, I have more leisure time now than I have in years. Neil, on the other hand, is working full-time, taking two classes, and for the next few weeks also teaching adult ed. And his band has started practicing again. I said from the start that I wouldn't mind picking up his household slack; he certainly has plenty of times for me while I've been working and in grad school. But you know what?

It sucks!

I am so tired of doing the dishes. I am so tired of doing laundry. (So very tired of laundry! Where does it come from?) I'm tired of funny household smells that linger no matter how often I change the litter box. I'm tired of either going to the grocery store or, more frequently, not being able to come up with anything to eat in the house. I'm tired of feeling guilty any time I ask Neil to help.

Not, mind you, that he is being entirely unhelpful. He did the last round of dishes and does other chores and errands when he finds time. It's just that since I am the one with the free time I'm the one who should be doing this stuff, and I'm really not. I'm not keeping up with it at all. I really hate it. And I have no idea how stay-at-home parents do it. I can't even handle the mess generated by two adults, a dog, and a cat. I think about my mom and my grandma and my nana and wonder how they did it without going crazy. How did they spend such large chunks of their lives at it? Were they resentful? Did the feminist movement speak to them at all?

Not, mind you, that this is a matter of oppression for me. Quite the opposite. This is a temporary situation in which I am actually incredibly lucky to (a) be able to teach and (b) be able to attend school without outside employment. But it has given me a taste of the drudgery endured by so many women, both stay-at-home moms and working moms. My mom did both, staying home with me until I started kindergarten, and even after she went back to work full-time the bulk of the household duties remained squarely on her shoulders. It's only in the last few years that she's gotten my dad actively involved in things like dishes and laundry. (I like to think that this started when I first got into feminism and, in response to my mother's complaints about ironing my dad's shirts, I asked her why he didn't iron them himself. She said at the time that she did it out of love. Apparently she has since found other ways to display her affection.)

I'm writing this after a day spent doing nothing of substance besides finishing The Corrections, which I highly recommend. I'm still in my pajamas. I meant to do dishes and laundry but I didn't get around to them. But I'm sure they'll be there tomorrow.

Neil and I are about two and a half weeks into an experiment in pescatarianism (no animal flesh besides seafood). Almost all of my "vegetarian" friends are, in reality, prescatarians, but I don't like to call myself vegetarian because it's inaccurate and I feel it takes away from people who truly do not eat animals of any sort, something I could probably never do.

Anyway. My reasons for giving up mammals and birds as food are threefold.

1) The environment. Factory farming is really bad news. If you want an example of exactly how, try this.

2) Animal cruelty. The conditions in which animals are raised and slaughtered are abhorrent. Pigs, cows, and chickens are all intelligent, social animals who experience pain and fear.

3. Health. Vegetarians have lower risk for heart disease and cancer.

Of course, eschewing these animals for these reasons does not mean that I do not still want meat. Last week we went to Shiraz, where I usually get the joojeh (chicken) kabob. I love the joojeh kabob. But I got falafel instead (which was actually maybe the best falafel I've ever eaten). Last night I reeeally wanted some boneless chicken wings. We got the Morningstar Farms buffalo wings instead, and they were good, but still did not satisfy my urge for gooey Buffalo Wild Wings. But, you know, that's okay. I don't have to eat everything that I want, and the satisfaction I feel knowing that I'm doing good for the earth, animals, and myself almost makes up for the fact that I'm going to Philly this fall and won't be able to eat a cheesesteak.

I've managed to assign keywords to my thousands (literally, thousands!) of photos in my iPhoto library, so the next step is to organize them all with Flickr so I can share them with people. Let's start with an Otis set.

More photos of more things and people to follow!