I’m A Woman Who Has It All, Here’s How I Get It Done Every Day (I’m Dying Inside)


I am a successful career woman with 2.5 kids and a husband who doesn’t resent me for my busy schedule and am also 25 but still can party and am hot. HOW do I do it? How do I have it all!?

Ladies, here are my secrets:

For one thing, I am miserable all the time. Cheers to that, am I right? Ah, there’s really nothing like waking up in the morning and dreading the rest of your existence. And I do it every day! It is SO vital to stick to a routine.

I rise at 6:00AM EST every morning without fail, because I have insomnia and stomach ulcers and feel like dying all the time so who cares about REM cycles! Then I kiss my adoring and super handsome husband and swallow the urge to lash out at him because I’ve been suppressing my emotions since 2007. He loves me exactly for who I make him think I am.

I need to have ice cold water with freshly squeezed lemon. It doesn’t do anything, but it sort of gives off the illusion that I am holding it together well. I’d drink bleach if it meant that I’d never age!

I do pilates. I know what you’re thinking: What’s even the point? We’re all just a bag of bones and when the robot overlords take over, they’re not going to care who took pilates classes (I think?). I mean, if you really think about it, do I have a genuine purpose on this planet anymore or am I just trying to do everything everyone else expects of me? Haha! Am I whining again? I HAVE IT ALL, I AM BETTER THAN YOU.

I haven’t felt anything, both physically and emotionally, in 14 years.

Following pilates, I will do yoga. I smile through the agony of knowing that my parents still aren’t proud of me, which is something I always think about whenever I have a moment in silence. I really hate silence. Can’t be left alone with my thoughts, haha! NAMASTE, I AM AMAZING!

I have avocado toast for breakfast. Sometimes I will drink the blood of my enemies (stay-at-home moms, anyone who genuinely loved Marie Kondo’s book, any woman who is younger and hotter than me). As I’m eating, I extract a small part of my soul and Venmo it to Satan himself. Ladies, you can’t have it all unless you are literally working with the devil! Someone make it stop.

I massage thousands of dollars’ worth of beauty products into my tired, sagging flesh. I smile in my vanity mirror as I do this, showing off my fake, perfect teeth. I have fake teeth because I ground my real ones down to the gum from stress. It was for the best, because NOW I HAVE IT ALL.

My husband finally rises and demands breakfast. I make him and my 2.5 genetically flawless children a magnificent feast. As I’m cooking, I also solve 19 different problems my company needs fixing. I spend most of my time multitasking running a company I invented, raising my 2.5 kids, and training for a triathlon I’m doing to raise money for charity. Exhausted reading that? I literally want to die.

For lunch, I just gulp down some air. I sit at my Powerful Woman Office Desk and take a moment to really inhale aggressively. If I’m not hot, then what’s the point? I do a sheet mask and then put out some fires. Both literal and metaphorical.

My organs are shutting down.

The rest of the afternoon is dedicated to Business. I look so good in a pantsuit. I am taken seriously! I inject youth serums into my veins in the women’s bathroom before big meetings. I can’t remember the last time I blinked. My mouth tastes like blood a lot of the time.

Before making dinner, I like to cocoon myself in cashmere. I got myself a cashmere straitjacket that I wear for about an hour in a special room in my beautiful, expensive house that I bought, so that I can sob hysterically without trying to rip my face off.

After dinner and mandatory family bonding so that my children grow up with vivid memories of how well I raised them, I put everyone to bed. I stare out my giant window, thankful for all that I’ve accomplished. Which is everything. My eye twitches. Soon, at dawn, I will have to do it all over again. See!? You CAN have it all! Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Katie Mather


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