Somebody's Someone

Now that I've firmly decided to stick with my decision of establishing myself as a member of the non-smoking fraternity, life at the new workplace is already looking up for me. My non-conformist friends rebuke me for the hypocritical nature of this decision,but I have experienced firsthand the various downsides of being the NYT(new young thing) on the block who smokes during her numerous short breaks and is immediately slotted into the "cocky,lackadaisical and generally inefficient/incompetent" category.Laugh all you want, but all you bitchy,judgemental office hags,you know what I'm talking about!
In all fairness however, I must not fail to overlook the fact that first bad interning experience was with one of those fly-by-night "society" magazines that churns out the usual pseudo stuff which theahem "cream" of Dubai society(chiefly Sindhis) cannot seem to get enough of.Although the mother laughs at what she thinks are my highly exaggerated and melodramatic descriptions of editor from hell who I likened to Cruella Devil meets Anna Wintour,(albeit a rather stocky/dumpy/crass/Bengali speaking version with a love for garish hooker-red lipstick)she knows in her heart of hearts that I am not far from the truth.
For the past few days a questions thats been constantly playing on my mind is THIS....what if(and this could be a very real possibility) I'm just NOT one of those people who's cut out to work.People these days seem to be unable to fathom the idea that seemingly educated,liberated,exposed woman like myself could perhaps CHOSE too sit at home of her own free will. How do I ever explain to anyone that it's been my dream, since I was old enough to be told who Prince Charming was , to one day marry a man. A man who wears the pants in our marriage and who will have me gladly and voluntarily surrendering to this role of breadiwnner he plays. I don't see it so much as a power play thing, more like I've always liked being the one fussed over and babied, and I know that one day I will meet a man who completely sweeps me off my feet and will leave me PINING to fold his socks for him and wake up every morning to serve him his tea,just the way he likes.That and a cosy suburban home with three happy babies and two cats-Poshto and Billi. Cringe all you want, my friends, but I am unabashedly proclaiming that the trophy wife/soccer mom title is one that doesn't make me shudder, and I wait eagerly for the day that I become part of a couple...somebody's someone...Cheesy much? I think not.