Yep, I’m a FlyBaby. Okay, I WAS a FlyBaby. Now I’m just lazy. If you’re not familiar with the term (FlyBaby I mean, I’m sure you’re all familiar with lazy) it’s a label applied to those who have just begun the FlyLady program.
And now you’re wondering to yourselves “What or Who the hell is the FlyLady and why is this crazy broad talking about her?” I’m gettin’ there! Gimme a chance. Well, like I said, I’m lazy, so rather than try to find my own words to describe the FlyLady, I’m going to copy and paste the description from her website. But I will go the extra mile and put it in italics to make it stand out a little.
Are YOU living in CHAOS (Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome) like Franny in the pink sweats? Do you feel overwhelmed, overextended, and overdrawn? Hopeless and you don’t know where to start? Don’t worry friend, we’ve been there, too.
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So, now that you know more than you ever wanted to know about the FlyLady, you’d probably like me to get to the point of this post, hmmm? Well, it’s like this; The first lesson the FlyLady tries to impress upon you is the need to start the day “Flying” (don’t you love how she incorporates ‘Fly’ into everything? Uh-huh) and this means you start the day with your shoes on. Of course, most normal people don’t wear their shoes with their pajamas (clearly they’ve never lived at my house) so this generally means you start the day dressed and ready to greet the world if need be. This way you always give the appearance of having acoomplished something with your day, if only tying your shoes (you’re shit outta luck if you wear slip ons. Which the FlyLady strongly frowns on by the way. Yeah, she’s even got rules for what KIND of shoes you should be wearing.) She has a good theory, she says if you stay at home and work, and you stay in your pajamas, and your in-laws should happen to drop by, they will be convinced that you are a lazy bum and that you are actually mooching off of your husband, not actually working at home. You’re clearly laying around eating bon-bons and reading the same trashy romance novels that those Smart Bitches blog about. And just because you weren’t wearing the fuzzy slippers when you answered the door, they KNOW that they’re simply under the couch, where you kicked them when you heard the knock.
But I digress.
So, you get dressed to make people think you’re being productive at home (sounds like a lot of work doesn’t it?) Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Which is why I was still in my pajamas when the Fed Ex guy rang the doorbell at noon today. Okay, that’s not the only reason, I mean, I could explain to you about the baby’s naptimes and our busy morning schedule and how hard it is to schedule a shower in there but let’s face it- I was in my pajamas because I wanted to be. And not even sexy pajamas. But pink loungy bottoms and one of Josh’s blue t-shirts. I hadn’t brushed my hair. No makeup. And I’m pretty sure I had the baby’s breakfast on one shoulder. When I answered the door. And saw an amazingly gorgeous FedEx man holding a package .Nooo…you pervs. Not THAT package. A box. Noooo…not that kind of box…it was a special delivery for me. Oh Sheesh. Get your damn minds out of the gutter. He was just delivering a prize I’d one from one of the newsletters I belong to. But who cares what he was doing there! He was at my door in all his buff glory and I was…I was…I was frightening! That daggone FlyLady never said anything about hot delivery guys. I might have listened to that lesson. Instead, I’m signing for my package and thinking to myself “I hope he doesn’t notice the pimple on my chin. Or that stray hair I really need to pluck.” I don’t think I left a very good impression. I’m going to do better in the future. Starting…soon. In the meantime, could someone send me a package via FedEx so I can have a second chance at impressing the cute delivery guy? My ego would thank you 😉