Formerly Fabulous

I think I've mentioned before that I am member of the Formerly Fabulous.  Actually, this is a group I myself started, so I'm kinda like the President of the Formerly Fab.  You could kiss my ring if I still had it.  You see, there was a time long ago when real estate was a money making profession!  You may or may not have heard, but these days?  Not so much.  My husband is now back to being a rock star.  And that doesn't pay what it used to either.  Additionally, as has been established, I don't have a freaking job.  Please.  Me? Seriously. The stock market taking a historic nose-dive and wiping out my portfolio was not all that helpful either.  Ummmmm.......where'd all my money go?  Poof!  Gone.  Waaahhhh.  I am not a good poor person.  Fortunately I've still got most of my stuff.  Pretty nice house, cars are paid for, it still looks like we're holding it together.  What is not visible to the naked eye are the underpinnings of fabulosity that allow one to BE truly fabulous.  Prime example?  Cleaning ladies.  Ohhhh, how I miss my cleaning ladies.  Even the ones who came to check out my old house for the first time and declared, "Eeeeeesssss reaalllllllly dirttttyyyyyy".  Oh, really, dumbass?  You think you're here because I'm GOOD at cleaning?  A little more cleaning and a little less attitude, please.  I freely admit I suck at cleaning.  And I've got a pretty big house. With a lot of toilets.  And my parents are coming for Thanksgiving.  On Monday.  It has been suggested that they may feel so badly about the squalor I am now living in that they will hire some cleaning ladies on the spot.  Mom: "How can our grandchild live like this!......Bill!  Do something!!!!".  Maybe I should really play up the poverty angle and hire some chickens to run around in the yard.  And maybe tie a goat to a tree.  I could smear Jack with charcoal and make him look like a hobo.  Maybe I'll have him sitting out in the driveway with a sign saying he'll work for food.  That'd be good.  Nothin' primes the sympathy pump like an indigent child.  Particularly when he's your own flesh and blood.  Oh, I'll go there.  The bottom line is that I want my freakin' cleaning ladies back by any means necessary.  I don't even care if they judge me.  Just clean like the wind, cleaning ladies.....clean like the wind.