Sunday, June 24, 2007

Welcome to my mid-life crisis.

I just received a letter from a grammar school classmate. He said that members of our class were interested in having some kind of reunion. Now mind you, I think that's a swell idea. I'm a fairly outgoing person, and by nature, I'm a joiner, so what the hell, right?

And then I started Googling my old classmates. And discovered that I am the only housewife in the bunch.

OK, I realize that old skool housewives are something of an endangered species, right up there with the manatees I so much resemble. But this is demoralizing. There doesn't seem to be a gentleman's C, slackerish, vice-president-in-his-father's-company person in the whole goddamned class. Except me.

I'm trying to be OK with this. I'm really working at it. I mean, sure they all have millions of degrees and publications and awards, but I can and do take a bit of pride in my accomplishments, modest though they are.

But I foresee another reunion where I go around telling everyone I'm a trophy wife.

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