6 minute read
7 DAYS INTO THE WEEK OF A CHILDLESS WOMAN by Zoé Mahfouz
WELL DONE! Fiction
7 DAYS INTO THE WEEK OF A CHILDLESS WOMAN by Zoé Mahfouz
DAY 1
I wake up around 11 a.m. and decide to go out for brunch. On the way home, I impulsively book a spin class, followed by a weightlifting session, followed by a trampoline class because my pelvic floor is still intact. Feeling motivated, I confidently head to the gym. After my workout, I grab a protein smoothie from my favorite smoothie shop and chat with the owner, John, a Colombian man who insists on giving me his unsold goods as a token of appreciation. I graciously accept and pretend to eat them because I’m a good person who understands the rules of social interaction.
While we’re chatting, I witness a child throwing a tantrum after spilling juice all over her dress. Her mother frantically searches for napkins, only for the child to grab what’s left of the juice and hurl it directly into her mother’s face. I go home, put on The Mindy Project, and watch two episodes. Then I take a nap.
DAY 2
The weather is amazing, so I take the bus to the park. I end up walking through three different parks over the span of two to three hours, petting random poodles and feeding a mix of blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries to squirrels that take them straight from my hand, making me feel like Snow White.
In the distance, I spot a child deliberately kicking one of the squirrels while her mother tries to stop her but can’t keep up. She then gets into a heated argument with her husband about whose responsibility this is, but he’s too busy ogling a 20-year-old jogger to care.
On my way back, I notice a showing of Wicked at a nearby movie theater. Even though I’ve already seen it twice, I decide to go for a third round. All that walking and watching has exhausted me, so when I get home, I take a nap.
DAY 3
I wake up with my Korean face mask still on and gently peel it off, admiring my glass-skin effect. My hair, soaked in overnight oil and wrapped in a towel, gets a thorough wash because today I have a photoshoot. I savor the solitude of my bathroom, enjoying the silence.
I pack my small suitcase and head to the shoot, where my hair and makeup are done professionally. I post a few TikToks for fun and end up having a fantastic photoshoot that lasts longer than expected. The photographer casually tells me I have a great body, unlike his wife, “whose body has been ruined by two pregnancies.” He then confides in me that they’ve decided to become polyamorous.
On my way back, I stop at the grocery store and have a quick chat with the security guard. Meanwhile, a child launches himself into a man’s shopping cart, causing it to topple over and send cucumbers, tomatoes, and celery rolling everywhere. The kid bursts into hysterical tears as his mother gets bombarded with judgmental stares and disapproving nods from surrounding shoppers.
When I get home, I start a load of laundry and hear on the radio news that a woman has been arrested for putting her two-year-old in a washing machine. I then have an uninterrupted, hour-and-a-half-long phone call with my mom. After that, I take a nap.
DAY 4
It’s raining, so I decide to spend the afternoon at a museum. I grab a protein bar and head out around lunchtime.
At the ticket counter, I notice a group of children wailing because their mother wants to take them to the museum restaurant instead of McDonald’s. They retaliate by attempting to destroy a 100-year-old statue, which results in them being thrown out by security guards who immediately regret touching them upon realizing their hands are now inexplicably sticky.
I take an audio guide and stroll leisurely through the exhibit, taking my time in front of each painting. Feeling sufficiently cultured, I stop by a local pizzeria I often order from on UberEats and finally try their pizza in person. I savor a giant pepperoni pizza with a side of garlic dip because I’m not planning on kissing anyone today.
A family walks in with strollers and crying babies, prompting a waiter to rush over and inform them that they don’t have a kids’ menu or highchairs. Chaos ensues as the children start rolling on the floor, shrieking, “I’m hungry! I’m hungry!” while the rest of the restaurant shoots the mother dirty looks.
Satisfied with my day, I go home and take a nap.
DAY 5
Before leaving for my screenwriting class, I mop my apartment floors and leave the windows open to dry them. I feel comfortable leaving my home unattended because I know everything will still be exactly as I left it when I return.
Since I arrive at class early, I stop by the protein shop to stock up on coconut bars and chat with my favorite employee, Dayo, who looks like death warmed over. He tells me his toddler is teething and hasn’t slept in days.
When I finally get to class, the secretary informs us that the lesson will be conducted online because the instructor couldn’t find daycare due to a strike and is now quarantined at home with her kids, who have lice. I endure the awkward virtual class, then go home and take a nap.
DAY 6
I have a long weekend ahead, so I decide to book a trip to Italy with my mom. We’re thrilled to find a hotel with a pool until we read TripAdvisor reviews warning that it’s frequently closed because parents keep bringing their diapered children in, and, well... let’s just say the water gets contaminated beyond repair.
We wisely opt for an adults-only hotel instead.
To celebrate, we put on some music to get into vacation mode. Moments later, there’s furious banging on the front door. It’s our downstairs neighbor, barefoot and enraged, ranting that our music woke up his toddler and now their afternoon is ruined. Too bad, because now I feel exhausted and am about to take a well-deserved nap.
DAY 7
I take my spotless car out for a drive, rent an entire bouncy castle just for myself, strip naked, and gleefully jump around while watching the live Academy Awards ceremony on my phone and devouring ice cream in every flavor imaginable, because I can.
Then, I call my GP to inquire about the procedure for getting my uterus removed. This conversation fills me with an unexpected surge of excitement.
It’s been an emotional rollercoaster of a day, so I take a nap.
