Enjoli Perfume and My Consciousness

This commercial was all over the bigassed TV set we had back in the day. Essentially, the point is that you will be self-actualized and smell good if you are a "wooooman" who can provide monetarily for her family, administrate an excellent bacon-based meal, and have quality sexy times with one's spouse. It matched the cultural phenomenon of the time, with women increasingly going to work and maintaining a high standard at home as well. I remember my mother wearing mannish tailored suits, her floppy flowered scarf-tie the only concession to femininity. This was the expectation for the 1980s power-broker female, and one of the first gender role models I had.

After Barbie. But let's not go there.

So this is what I am trying to accomplish. Everything else in my life was seemingly in place when I got pregnant. I had the successful career in emergency medicine, the attractive physician spouse, a dream home being built, friends and family involved in my life, and a new dedication to running with a little weight loss on the side. Then the clomid kicked my right ovary into function, and here I am wearing a too-tight pink sweatshirt with a boston terrier on the front, and only one sock. I am also too tired to motivate, so I am typing instead. At the end of the day, I hope that I am going to end up smelling good.