The drudgery is getting to me. I never envisioned becoming dependent on something as insignificant as domestic help.
Today my movements and social life are dictated by her moods. My timings and needs have to suit her lifestyle…or else I’m forced to lead a life of dirt and stench!
She sits in her little hut conniving how to vex me after a long and dull day at work…and while I dream about putting my legs up and enjoying a few nibbles while watching TV, she glares at me and staunchly refuses to come and complete the daily chores because I am ten seconds late!
The foolishness of being part of the population of this town is being overly and emotionally dependent on these silly yet stylish women who dictate our lives as if their fathers had paid for our upkeep! They nag us to death over acquiring material things that will make their lives more comfortable and livable, while we slog in our respective offices trying to make ends meet in this city where everything by sheer snob value costs more than a diamond tiara!
I hate her with all my heart and with each passing day imagine the sheer pleasure throwing some hot water down her neck will cause me…even as I go and cringe at her gate, throwing all caution to the wind pleading with her to please come and scrub my floor even though big dirty black spots will glare back at me the minute she steps aside…yet my need blinds me every passing day….
I need this woman to come and do those dirty menial jobs like I need no other in this world.
And I detest myself for having sunk so low. Yet isn’t this the essence of existence?
Such ignominy we’ve been reduced to!
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