Choice

The freedom to choose. This is what women fought for. But it is always what we want?

Recently, after my missive on this very blog about how much I adore being at home, I went on a dream job interview. It was a news editor position at a magazine. Despite my lack of direct experience, I found myself across the table from an editor in chief, in brand new high heels and an updated portfolio, nodding and smiling and boasting.

(In case you are wondering, the job is in an adjacent city, so my mother drove me to the interview with D, and waited in the parking lot. And five minutes before I was rattling off my strengths and weaknesses, my dress was at my waist and I was breastfeeding in the backseat. But I digress...)

As the editor in chief started to unravel the job description, I floated above my manicured nails and overstyled hair and and watched myself nod enthusiastically, and tried to keep from drooling. This was everything I ever wanted....before.