I have to admit, I love TV. I can really enjoy a good scripted comedy. I am not ashamed to say I’ve seen every episode of Sex and City and Girlfriends, I Watched Girls briefly (but I’m too old for that phase), BBC had an awesome show called Mistresses, and this list can go on and on.  While it makes for a good hour of meaningless, mind numbing escapism.  After several years of this indulgence, you start to believe that life should really imitate art. 

I should be able to walk around all day in 6 inch heals or meet my friends in the middle of the day for coffee or lunch.  I should be to work  9 hour day with no lunch breaks and still maintain a spotless home cook dinner for my husband in the same heels that I wore all day. 

These TV Chick’s never have to balance everything at the same time. Project deadlines, sorting the stack of bills of the table ( paying them is another post) , family drama, getting dinner on the table, buying groceries for the week, and the list can go one and one. I wish we could live our live in short segments and then just pause everything for a commercial break. When were ready life would just pick-up right where it left off. in 30 minutes everything has been resolved and anything left undressed can simply wait until next week. 

Needless to say that version of the city girl I think I should be has never shown herself. I guess she’s in there somewhere buried under yoga pants or the dirty dishes in the sink. There’s a person in there than juggle life, look fabulous, and make it all look easy. This version of me would never appear on a sitcom. Maybe a drama and these days unfortunately a reality show. All things considered, this girl is pretty comfortable in her skin, certain of her likes and dislikes, young enough to enjoy good like but old enough to understand the consequences.