Back-up Plan for Life
Join a Convent

One of these days when the stresses of wifehood, motherhood, and all those other “hoods” finally beats me down to a bloody pulp, I’m going to hitch a ride to the local convent, and find out if they’ll accept a forty-something gal, married for the second time with four children.

Think about it, free room and board, time to meditate, no financial or fashion worries, reading and writing is encouraged … sounds dreamy doesn’t it?

I think I have a decent shot. These are the reasons I feel optimistic.
I was raised Catholic so I know most of the prayers … at least well enough to mumble.
I attended an all girls Catholic college run by sisters.
I have five sets of rosary beads (one even glows in the dark), courtesy of my late granny.
I really liked Pope John.
I am willing to attend confession on a weekly basis even though I haven’t punched my brother in twenty-five years.
I’d be happy to turn over a good portion of my earthly possessions.

However, there are a few things I would not, could not do.
I cannot wear black or navy stretchy pants nor can I wear street clothes with that hat/veil combo.
I will not cook. I’ll clean, but no cooking.
I cannot kneel on a wooden bench for more than fifteen minutes. Arthritis in the knees.
I can’t take a vow of silence. I talk to myself constantly.
I can’t memorize too many long churchy pieces without a cheat sheet.
Fasting for more than one day make me really grumpy.
I cannot give up my nightly glass of red wine. (I’m not too worried about this one. )

I really do think I have a decent shot.