I'm currently reading (scratch that...listening to) Jennifer Weiner's "Little Earthquakes". It is a "chick lit" book - a book written by a woman, for women, dealing with "women's issues"*. I suppose the name comes from the same folks that gave us "chick flick" - a movie in which no heterosexual man would be caught deal, unless he is wanting to get laid.
Anyway - I normally don't read this genre of book. I usually find the stereotypes annoying and the topics depressing. Guess what? This one is no different.
This book is about four women, each a mom, with a story about their motherhood. All depressing. One lost their child at 10 months; one's husband lost his job; one's husband is famous and never around; the other one has a meddling mother-in-law. Why must we make motherhood so depressing, folks? Why must the Mommy Guilt prevail? Please make it stop!
Anway - I came into work today and started snapping at co-workers. I was just plain mean! I realized that this meanness stemmed from being in a bad mood from this damn book!
Don't get me wrong, I don't only read Dave Barry books and live in a Pollyanna world where nothing bad every happens. I read books about serious topics, many of them sad, depressing, scary, angry. I read a wide variety of books. But this chick lit book disturbs me.
Then I started wondering why I keep listening to it. Why I don't just eject the CD, put it away and be done? The reason is...I keep hoping it gets better. I keep hoping that the husband gets another job, the missing husband comes back and gets involved; the mother-in-law tones it down. I guess the story wouldn't be as good without some obstacles to overcome, but jeez!
Anyway, I'm still listening...hoping that things get better for these folks. But I just might need some Dave Barry after this...
* I used quotes here because I believe that "women's issues" are men's issues too, and vice versa. Why the need to specify? But that's a rant for another time...