Does a bathrobe count as neat and simple attire?

THE DRESS OF THE MISTRESS should always be adapted to her circumstances, and be varied with different occasions. Thus, at breakfast she should be attired in a very neat and simple manner, wearing no ornaments...it would be well to exchange it before the time for receiving visitors, if the mistress be in the habit of doing so....in changing the dress, jewellery and ornaments are not to be worn until the full dress for dinner is assumed.

As I write this post while wearing my £6 pink sparkly and furry 'dressing gown,' I think to my morning/afternoon schedule now and just a month ago, when I still was working as a copywriter in a small ad agency.

THEN:
6:50 AM Rise from bed, tired no matter what time I went to sleep.
6:55 - 7:30 AM Gather foodstuffs, quick shower, change, feed rabbits.
7:30 - 8:00 AM Commute to work listening to horrible pop music on radio which I loved.
8:00 - 5:00 PM Spend time at work, doing work, or thinking about work.

NOW:
10:15 AM Rise from bed, groggy and in a state of confusion as to which country I am in currently.
10:30 AM Breakfast.
10:45 - 12:00 PM Noodle around on Internet or read in bed.
12:00 PM Lunch
12:15 - 1:00 PM More noodling.
1:00 PM Shower, then maybe going outside.
4:00 PM Return home, if I left, and start on various household tasks.


I am currently living what some might alternately call a life of leisure or a level of hell. It feels like both sometimes. In both timelines, I am really not accomplishing anything during the day. In the first, I am making money, for sure. But in the second, I am living relatively cost-free, my only obligations really to myself until it is time to do the dishes and vacuum. I can sleep all day, read all day, go for a walk all day. I am also trading interaction with people, companionship and conversation for this freedom.

The part that bothers me the most is here I am in this foreign-enough country and I'm not really doing anything. Of course, living and being on holiday are two different things. Granted, I have not been here long. I do plan on taking a solo trip to Exeter soon, and engage in other activities, but it's so terribly easy to just be lazy.

I assumed when I came that I would have all this free time to keep up my personal beauty regiment. What else would I do after all? But even this has been lacking. I type with overgrown, chipped fingernails and an unmade face. I do make it a special point to make myself up to the nines when my husband and I go out, whether it be to visit family, have drinks with some of his work-mates, or just catch the closing deals at the supermarket. I take some modicum of pride in appearing cute, pretty, even sexy by his side. I know this isn't an abnormal feeling. I suppose when you are not planning on going anywhere, or doing anything, that day, what is the use?

It makes me think of commercial images of fifties wives, all glammed up in heels and a shirtdress to do the baking and cleaning. What an image for women of the time to live up to!

I have just finished reading Marilyn Yalom's A History of the Wife. Fascinating insight into one of the world's oldest, and most marginalized, career paths.

Fancy A Nooner? Let Me Get Up First

Early rising is one of the most essential qualities which enter into Good Household Management, as it is not only the parent of health, but of innumerable other advantages. Indeed, when a mistress is an early riser, it is almost certain that her house will be orderly and well-managed...If you do not rise early, you can make progress in nothing.

The first point, and already some contention. I write this at 13:51, or -subtract 12- 1:51 PM, after rising at ten till noon. Already I have munched a bowl of cereal, popped in a load of laundry, and checked my RSS, Facebook and other Internet ventures. And showered and put on my dressing gown (the positively Dickensian moniker the husband bestowed on my furry, pink and sparkly £6 robe).

I agree that I should rise earlier. It's just so damn hard when one doesn't have to. Think, reader, if you were to lose your job tomorrow. After much boo-hooing about your pay, of course, what is one thing that always comes to mind: Well, at least I'll get to sleep in. Sleeping in is what 90% of Americans dream of. It's why we go into business for ourselves and retire. And here is my opportunity for six months to do exactly that: sleep in. And who knows when I may do so again.

Besides, to be honest, there isn't much to wake to during the week here. Rain, and bitter cold, and a small empty flat all tend to tuck me in even tighter. I suppose one advantage is a good English breakfast at mainstay Wetherspoon. One short walk to a cuppa and some beans on toast, and a veggie sausage. And I can be the first to snatch the Sun (30p - quality) or the Star (25p - budget) before they are totally depleted from the nearby news agent. Oh, the places I'll go - namely around the block and back - for a good choice of fake newspapers.

I think it all stemmed from my lack of sleep on the plane. I arrived at 7 AM having slept naught, and I crashed through most of my first day. It was the joint fault of the screens on the back of the seats in the Airbus (Five movies to choose from! Popular TV shows!) and my nervousness at meeting customs. Which, was completely founded. For I nearly didn't enter this gray country due to what the curmudgeonly agent deemed "a lack of funds." Although I had a note from my sponsor saying I would be staying here rent-free, somehow $3,000 isn't enough to live six months - even when I can get a head of lettuce from Morrison's for just 15p.

Not until I waved my plastic around - the joint credit card my mum and I share - was I finally let in. Plastic does make it possible. Viva imagined and invisible wealth.

Tomorrow I must see to the bag of potatoes in the kitchen before they grow more potatoes themselves. There are approx. 50 potato recipes in Beeton and I hope to find a simple one. Tonight though, two-for-one veggie curry pasties. I'm on a roll not having dishes to do and I want to keep it that way.