Excuse me, ma’am, but your cape is on fire.

Photo Credit: Dharma Initiate @ Flickr

“Hello, my name is Lori, and I have a super-woman complex.”

I don’t know what the heck the twelve-step meeting looks like, but I promise it involves baked goods.

The truth is, super-woman doesn’t exist. Only the illusion of her. So-called Superwomen are really just master showmen, marvels at misdirection and queens of physics-or-biology-defying-prioritization. (“I can get the flyers for the soccer team done first, sew the Halloween costumes next, file the tax return after dinner and hmmm….nope! No time for metabolism today. I can produce insulin tomorrow.”) In addition they live, generally, on a diet of caffiene and anti-depressents with tropical cocktails thrown in for hydration purposes.

We idolize super-woman, we do our best to emulate her.

But I have a super-woman handicap. I’m a terrible procrastinator. This is often news for people, but it’s true. I make up for it by being able to work faster than humans are generally designed to move. And my multi-tasking abilities rival a dual core Intel processor. I just always do everything roughly eleven minutes before the pot-luck-dish/business-proposal/working-scale-model-of-Vesuvius is due.

Actually, the super-woman I admired most confessed that on really bad nights when the expectations of the world flattened her too badly that she would sleep curled up in the closet where it smelled like cat pee.

Really, that’s a coping strategy I aspire to.

I do have the misdirection thing down, though. I can hide things where you’d never think to look, and craft shallow organization systems that by all outward appearances rival the Library of Congress. Or sometimes it’s more mystical. For instance, I will occasionally distract my husband from the chaos and clutter in the bedroom to the point where he tells me doesn’t even notice it. Little does he know that I employ a Jedi-mind-control trick (also known as “nakedness”) to keep him from perceiving things I do not choose for him to.

Not to worry, I only use my powers for good.

The expectations never stop, and where the world opts not to create them, I will happily fill the vacuum on my own.  “Could you bring a snack for the volunteers?” gets translated in my head as “I must arrange vegetable platters in the patterns of world flags, and carve cauliflower likenesses of the leaders of NATO countries!”

Honestly, often I just need to be smacked.

How’s Tuesday? I have a break between the meeting of the “Holier-than-thou Literary Academics Society” and the “Band Kids Versus Chess Club Kids Karate Match-Up Fundraiser.”

And where the *%$# did I leave my Prozac?


  1. In my humble opinion, one of your best posts. Ev.Ar.

    Besides, that pic up there of those middle-aged women (and one man) in tight blue spandex alone is award winning.

    I would also like to point out something regarding my profile picture. I guess I should blog about it, huh?

    I do not think I am wonderwoman. I am not pretending to be wonderwoman. I am not trying to hint towards wonderwoman-hood. I simply like her undies and her boots. Nothing more. Nothing less.

    1. I keep getting WonderWoman themed paraphernalia these days. I hope my family means it as a compliment, and not a suggestion for a more effective role model.

      And that is a really really cool thing to say! (About the post, not the undies. Although that was cool too.)

  2. Ok Lori, consider yourself officially smacked right upside your head girl! Now, take three deep breaths and repeat after me. Ready? NNNOOOO! Again, this takes practice. NNNOOOO! Ok, now practice this at least ten times daily. Doesn’t hurt to keep a rolled up mag or newspaper in your back pocket for those tempting moments when no one is handy to give you a good whop to the head either….
    Oh, who am I kidding? Go ahead, smack me and how about stapling my lips shut for good measure while you are at it? Guilty as charged your Honor. Procrastinator-check. Piles everywhere-check. Yes rolling off my tongue like a waterfall-check. No one to blame but my foolish self-check.

    Feel free to award yourself points for recognizing the disorder in the most creative fashion ever. A tall umbrella drink is in order as well.

    1. I’m ALWAYS about the tall umbrella drinks!

      And I always tell people it’s okay to smack ME upside the head, but I’m never so good at smacking other people.

      So umbrella drinks all around!

  3. I would like to say that I can not relate to this post in any way. I would like to say that nothing in this post was familiar and none of it applied to me. Yep, that would be lying, unfortunately.

  4. Jeeze, maybe if I invest in a cape I will be asked to volunteer more…As it is, I step up, and get politely turned down. I guess my reputation proceeds me….*sigh* I shouldn’t complain….

  5. I know this is a slight tangent, but your husband notices clutter?

    I would love that.

    Mine TRIPS over clutter and doesn’t know it.

  6. If you hadn’t explained the whole Jedi mind altering trick I could have/would have shown The Agronomist that I have alter procrastinating ego’s out in the universe. However he would have zoned in on your distraction methods and all other pertinent information would have been lost. I’ll have a drink for you.
    This was a laughoutlouder for me! Thanks…I am now off to twitter land to share your genius!

    1. True story too. Scary isn’t it.

      And when I can back to a REAL computer I’m swiping my Chicago Dog badge and proudly displaying it on my site!

  7. Wow, do I feel you here. I’m just hecka impressed that, with the procrastination, you Get Stuff Done. Me, I’ll sit on the bed for hours building ginormous mountains out of, say, a pile of dirty socks. And then I’ll decide that, since I can’t color code them and put them into tiny individualized alphabetized drawers, mainly because most of my socks don’t match and I don’t have tiny drawers, I’ll just watch All My Children instead.

    So you’re leap years ahead of some of us (me).

    And, as someone who’s cat peed on the corner of the bed years ago and can’t quite get the lingering smell to completely go away, let me share that reveling in it isn’t as glamorous as one might think.

    1. Oooooh….color coded sock mountains! A new hobby! (You REALLY shouldn’t mention things like that to me!)

      And I’m sorry about the corner of the bed. Ugh! Nimbus peed in my laundry hamper a while ago which was damned annoying. But, if anything, it has prevented me from digging clothing out of the hamper and being tempted to wear it when it REALLY should have been washed in the first place.

      1. @Lori – I truly find it hard to believe that you really like this, that you are not just writing it for laughs (But laughing is also a great reason to read your blog) In fact I have a hard time believing any one procrastinates quite like I do.. but @Leslie -You just paraphrased my life!
        Look, Yeah – if there’s not time or energy to wash down the bathroom walls, and clean the grout between the tiles on the floor with a toothbrush, wipe every individual item with a cloth, and declutter the bathroom cupboard, then well there really is no point in just doing a quick wipe around the bathroom is there? I may as well slip some vodka in my hot chocolate and read martha points…. :)

  8. Haha, I used to cuffer from the superwoman complex – to the point where some people called me superwoman. Never felt that way though, until I let go of the superwoman thing…or restructured it to: being right here, right now is all there is. Instead of “I have to be all.”

    Lovely blog =)

    1. Thank you ma’am. And what a healthy philosophy! I truly believe that we do most of this to ourselves. We’re are no less psychotic for its point of origin, though. ; )

  9. Lori thanks for sharing this link with me. It provided a much needed laugh and a huge sigh of relief that I am not the only one who has no ability to say no and then prepare adequately for what I have volunteered for haha!

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