Wanted: Personal Assistant
Must be able to:
Be my text messaging bitch while I am driving. For the life of me, I can’t get my phone to understand me when I’m talking–No, phone. I mean “sing” not “saying,” and why in the world would I ever send a message that reads, “No spores in the tell a home huh haved s*** me?”
Do the laundry and put clothes away properly folded. ALL shirts of mine are meant to be hung dry due to shrinkage in the dryer and subsequent belly-fat exposure—not that I’m admitting to having belly-fat. (The SPANX gets hand-washed).
Fetch me a new pair of socks when I step in something wet.
Figure out why the floor is wet and remedy the situation.
Pose for Christmas Card photo, print cards, sign cards with touching personal messages, address them, and put them in the post.
Check on the kid who just called for me while I’m in the middle of having sex with the hot-as-hell-hubby.
Supply me with an endless list of entertaining stories and jokes to entertain people with at Christmas parties.
Scratch that spot on my back I can’t reach. Up. To the left. A little to the right. Down a smidge…
Brush my little girl’s hair so someone else can make her cry every morning.
Fill my car with gas when it is needed. The gas pump handle is SO cold these days.
Finish my Christmas shopping—with your own money.
Find my sunglasses.
Make my bed everyday, as I’ve stopped doing this since I began working full time.
Provide me with interesting things to write about, and sign over intellectual property of all clever ideas.
Make a kick-ass gingerbread house that looks like the Witch’s cottage from Hansel and Gretel so that I can look like all the other awesome moms on Pinterest.
Write down the endless “To-Do” lists and article topics that I think up while waiting on sleep to close my eyes. I never write them down because they’re always so important and awesome that I’m sure I’ll remember them the next day. (I never do).
Cook breakfast—one that a trucker would order at Waffle House. Make it scattered, smothered, and covered.
Massage my feet.
Take my vitamins for me.
Reupholster the living room furniture.
Take down all the Christmas décor and store it all away neatly.
Take upon your own body all the excess Holiday weight I may feel like putting on.
Make me a hot cup of tea 8 minutes after it is requested. No excuses or substitutes will be tolerated.
Assist with the keeping up of appearances that I am an amazing-wunderkind-super-mom-and-wife. Swear to keep the secrets of the dirty floor, messy kitchen, kids’ tardy slips, chicken nugget suppers, half-assed play dates due to exhaustion, quickies in the bathroom due to lack of alone time with the spouse, pony-tail days to prolong hair-washing and styling, T.V. Babysitting, binge coffee drinking, and number of M&Ms eaten in a day.
This is an unpaid gig, but I can compensate in “saying” songs to you for the rest of your life, That is, if I can acquire a personal assistant to take care of everything I need to do while I’m singing to you.