The White-ness of the Whale (The Plight of the Stay at Home Mother Part 2)

I used to be
A literary scholar

I waxed poetic about
whales and whiteness and waves and metaphors that meant: the personification of the plight of Ireland.

I never
even
liked
that
book

But Melville was somehow better

Than laundry/dishes/dishracks/mud-stained carpets/sweeping/washing windows/endless washing

Somehow

Standing in front of thirty unrelated teenagers felt like living

And now
Sitting in front of a computer screen with cups of coffee and trying to find something to do with my useless time I can't help feeling like

Failing

Is all that I ever accomplish

No sooner have I learned how to do something than that something changes and I'm supposed to

cherish every moment

I just wonder:

What has become of me.