Multiplicity

Do you ever have those days when you feel like you’re juggling multiple personalities?  Figuratively speaking, that is?

I do.  And it feels like my multiple personalities have had a serious conflict of interest lately.

Working Me.  Mommy Me.  Housekeeper Me.  Chauffeur Me.  Wife Me.  Me Me.

They’re all there, fighting amongst themselves for a chunk of my time.  And, simply put, there are just not enough hours in the day to accommodate them all.  So my multiple personalities bicker.  And they engage in a perpetual rock-paper-scissors act to see which parts of me take precedence.

But at last my internal struggle is over.  Because, as I was channel surfing the other night, I found the long lost solution.

Multiplicity.

As in the movie, Multiplicity.  You remember it?  That ’90s comedy film where the husband stumbled upon the good Dr. Leeds, who created various clones of said husband so that he could balance his spouse, career and family?  That’s the one.

Anyway, as I was watching the movie the other night, I had this crazy epiphany that multiplicity just might be the answer to all of my problems.  If I had just a few more of Me around, I could really motor.  I started thinking about the possibilities.

Like what Career Woman Me would be like.  I’m guessing she would always show up to the office on time, sporting an immaculate business suit that did not have a single trace of spit up, playdough or Cocoa Puff residue on it.  She would never have to leave the office early to pick up the kids, or guiltily call in sick because one of her kids was oozing green boogers.  On days she worked from home, she wouldn’t have to worry about children cackling maniacally in the background during a conference call.

Or Mommy Me.  She would always have time for playing cars, giving horsie rides, or just stopping to really listen to what her kidlets were saying.  She would never rush them out of the house or beg them to stop dawdling.  She would stop and smell the roses.  Mommy Me would always let her kids play with Moon Dough, slurp spaghetti with their hands, and stomp in mud puddles… because she didn’t care about the mess it made.

And what I wouldn’t give for a Domestic Diva Me.  My domestic goddess clone would never leave four laundry baskets full of clean clothes sitting by the bedside, unfolded, for weeks.  There would not be scary things growing in her refrigerator.  She would not have Pizza Hut on speed dial.   And she would happily clean up the Moon Dough, spilled spaghetti, and mud stains from her kids’ clothes; she wouldn’t mind the messes that Mommy Me made.

Bloggy Me would not be caught dead with 256 new items in her reader.  She would respond promptly to her comments with witty, funny little snippets of goodness.  She would remember to check her Twitter account more than once every couple of weeks.

Wifey Me would encourage her husband to play golf, go out for a beer, or just hang out with the guys more often.  Because, deep down, she knows he doesn’t do that nearly enough as he should.  She would not scoff at the way he attempts to put away the dishes, even if she can never find anything he puts away.  (Because she would have time to re-put-away the dishes that didn’t find their proper home.)   And she would always remember that her husband is a person, a man, and the one she fell in love with 15 years ago.

And Me Me would make time.  Time to get a pedicure, or a haircut.  Time to go on a date night with the ball and chain husband.  Time to relax.  Or just veg out and do nothing at all.  Me Me would take more time to do things that she really wanted to do, as opposed to the things that she felt like she needed to do.  And she would not feel guilty about it.  Not one bit.

Yep.  I think multiplicity is the way to go, indeed.  Personally, I’m thinking the whole strategy is pretty brilliant.  And as soon as I figure out a way to contact Dr. Leeds, I’m so cloning myself.

Now, does anyone have the phone number of Dr. Leeds?