After a stressful week, the last thing a girl wants to do is spend her Saturday night on the couch watching repeat movies while hearing the background static of her husband snoring in “his chair.” It’s a pathetic scene that we all face in our life at one time or another, and in spite of it, two questions always arise:
1) Why the hell did I get married?
2) Is this what my life has come to?
Sadly, for tonight, it has because when a man is in the comfort zone, it is uncomfortable for a woman. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable alright, and it makes me sick. All I keep saying to myself when this happens is, “Oh my God. I am in the comfort zone. The zone I never dreamed I would enter.” When I try to wake him up, there’s absolutely no response. It’s as if he drinks the “Michael Jackson Cocktail” and goes into a coma. At this point, I just know that even if an asteroid falls in the back yard, the bastard isn’t gonna move and that pisses me off even more. Here I am, in my prime, and this guy turns into nursing home material.
Oh yeah, I have definitely felt the uncomfortable side effects from the comfort zone. Now, its one thing to be sleeping in “his chair,” but to be out cold is a totally different story. So, what’s a girl to do? One time, as I looked over to the coffee table, there it was, plain as day written on the cover of the Oprah Magazine: “Own your power.” So, that’s what I do in these “uncomfortable” situations. I grab my cell phone, a glass, and the wine and pour myself a glass of “fuck this!” Next, I make a 911 call to my rescue team and leave the scene without even bothering to tell him the details. Just putting a sticky note on his chest that reads, “Out with the girls,” is good enough.
As always, a night with the girls always recharges the spirit. It’s a night filled with joy, peace, lots of laughs, and, of course, never a single complaint. I don’t know what it is, but as men get older they seem to complain, bitch, and moan more about everything to the point where they act like grumpy old men.
Women, on the other hand, just wanna have fun. We have a, “let’s get this party started,” kind of attitude because we have been home taking care of everyone 1955 style for way too long. So, to us, it doesn’t matter where we are. We can always make the best of it. What does matter, though, is who we are with. Being with the girls is never a dull moment. In fact, we thrive on good clean fun with a twist of mischief. I call our time together, “good girls behaving badly.” What goes on with the girls, stays with the girls. It might as well be the 11th commandment.
One night when I was the one who called everyone for a 911 S.O.S (save a sisters) night, I wanted to be the one to think of a joke to play on our husbands. I asked the bartender if he would call all of our husbands and leave a message on their cell phones saying, “It’s 11 o’clock, do you know where your wife is?” All I can say is, we totally got the bar jumping after that one. In fact, we received a round of shots from another group of women, who I would consider “Comfort Zone Veterans.” They bonded with us and shed some light on what to do when a man is in the comfort zone. This one woman, who reminded me of Goldie Hawn, said when her husband was in the comfort zone she took up boxing, joined a gun club, and started jumping out of planes. I asked her if her intention was to beat his ass, shoot him down, and then throw him out of a plane; which we all had quite the laugh over. To put a seal on the common bond that was between us, we all shared a toast to our womanhood. Before our departure, our “Comfort Zone Veterans” shared some words of wisdom: “Remember girls, if you don’t like it, change it. Only you have the power to do so.”
Yup! She’s got that right! It all starts with pouring yourself a glass of “fuck this.”
Even if I ended up strolling in around one o’clock, I’d find “old yeller,” still in the same position of his own personal comfort zone, snoring away. I’d look at him, begin to laugh, and just walk my ass upstairs thinking, “My God. He doesn’t even know I was gone!”
When it comes time to go downstairs in the morning for coffee, there’s my hubby; all bright eyed and bushy tailed from a restful night sleep, ready to start his day.
As he turned around to hand me a cup of coffee one morning, I noticed that he still had the sticky note on his sweatshirt. While trying to compose myself as he proceeded to get ready to leave, I just smiled at him and said, “Have a good day, honey.” All I kept thinking was, “Change is gonna come, alright.”
Oh yeah, it sure is; especially when he finally listens to the message on his phone or someone asks him why he is wearing a sticky note that says “out with the girls!”