“Most women go to a doctor when all they need is audience” – George Bernard Shaw

After seven years of working full time, I decided to quit and enjoy domesticity. It was great at first. No deadlines, no last minute scramble to achieve targets, no boss!

Some of the good things took getting used to. For instance, the only abbreviation used at home is TV, all the rest are complete words! No ASAPs, FYIs, ARPU, EBITDA......everything is referred to by its given name. Nice! Also, real coffee does not taste like the stuff that comes out of the vending machine in the pantry. I sent back the first few cups the housekeeper (that’s what I like to call him, OK?) made saying that it didn’t quite taste right, before I realised that this is what it is supposed to taste like!

The thing I missed most was not the thrill of achieving targets, or that rare congratulatory mail from the boss. It was not even the security of the paycheck at the end of each month. I missed the tea breaks and lunch breaks most. You might think that life now was one big tea break, and going by the amount of snacking I have begun doing, that would be an accurate assumption, but I refer to the inane conversation had with colleagues, not necessarily friends, during the breaks.  Being at home meant that the only grownups I interact with are the maid, the sweeper, the electrician, the milkman, and of course, the aforementioned housekeeper. The women in the neighbourhood have already formed their cliques. I tried to worm my way into one of them, and ended up feeling completely inadequate. I did not know whether the milk that gets delivered at home every morning is cow milk of buffalo milk; I did not know the best time to buy vegetables from the supermarket is between 11.45 and 12.30 in the mornings; and I was not on first name basis with the property manager for our building. So while I may not be a working woman anymore, I am yet to qualify to the rank or housewife.

So what does someone like me do for conversation? I go to the doctor of course. It started with the backache I got from slouching in front of the TV all day. The orthopaedic was a nice old school guy who did not insist on x-rays or tests. I instantly liked him because he said that the extra weight I had gained was not too much. When I told him how much I had gained over the last month, he said, ‘In that case, you must have been very skinny before.’ I am not the blushing kind, but my cheeks and ears felt warm, so I guess thats what I did. I religiously called to update him on my progress and two weeks later, reported back at the nice docs office to say I was feeling much better! Doctors always say ‘come back to me after a week.. ‘ kind of stuff, and everyone knows they are just being polite, but this was not an opportunity I was going to miss. 

A fortnight later I was fortunate enough to get a fever and a sore throat, and I got to meet another doctor. I am thinking of consulting a dietician and maybe even go to a skin specialist for that zit on my forehead. There is also some dental work I would like done, but since you can not talk much through that, I am saving it for truly desperate times

 

Originally posted on http://rivr.sulekha.com/most-women-go-to-a-doctor-when-all-they-need-is-audience-george-bernard-shaw_319707_blog

The author has since gone back to work and desperately misses all her doctors.