After spending the day researching obesity in children, I took a break from my studies to attend a viewing of a recently debuted show at the LP.  Desperate Housewives not only entertained me for a full hour, but it made me realize that my dream is to be a Desperate Housewife.  I already have half the qualities down.  I am fashionable, bitchy, stand up for myself, love to coordinate drama, like a good old fashioned mystery and enjoy being with my friends.  All I need is a husband and a posse of neightborhood whenches to become one of the few, the proud, the housewives.  I think in the long run I’d be a great housewife, with my obsessive cleaning, my longing to please whomever I have feelings for and my ability to socialize on a super-human level.  I could totally pull the act off.  My biggest problem will be finding a man who wants a housewife.  Does the breed still exist who wants to go out and work while their spouse takes care of all the matters at home?  Probably not.  But I can search for it.  I’m a stickler for keeping at unattainable goals.


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