Damsel in distress

The sky is so gray and heavy it looks like it's sitting right on top of the trees this morning. A very fine mist of rain is blowing and that stuff is COLD. Naturally that means I have to go out and pick up the yard full of paper the dogs have chewed up. It looks like they might have got into somebody else's trash. Oops.
Doug just left to go to work and I'm sitting here making a very long list of things I need to do today and I know, KNOW deep in my heart I'm very likely to put effort only in scooping out the litter box because, well, that HAS to be done. The rest of it...I'm not sure if I will manage anything that can't be done with my butt on the couch. It's cold outside. It LOOKS cold outside and that makes me cold. Sometimes being such a visually oriented person is a real pain in the tuckus.
Whatever happens I know it won't be installing the new marble counter tops in the bathroom because I've already watched Doug drive away in the van and the marble is still in there, in the "staging area". I do, however have the floor that needs to go in the laundry hall - just no motivation for crawling around on the floor all day. Sometimes it sucks being so handy. I'd really like to just be a girl and do girl things like sitting on the couch reading trashy romance novels. I'd like a pretty little apron hanging in the corner of the kitchen and fuzzy slippers with minute heels and a silk robe. That's SO not me though. You get me and you get overalls and work boots, a sweatsuit if you're real lucky with sneakers...sneakers covered in drips of paint, hair tied back in a pony tail, hammer in one hand, cigarette in the other. I don't think it's that I'm not feminine. I smell good (usually). I'm clean. I brush my teeth and I wear makeup and I don't climb trees (usually). I'm just not that girly and I'm not sure why. I wonder if that spoils things for my husband. Sometimes I think it has to, though in all fairness, I have to say that our talents work together very well. He cooks, I install the counter top he chops veggies on. I drug Gimli and cut out his stitches while Doug holds his leg up for me, starts breathing all funny and says, "Here Jake, I can't do this." It works, but it has its drawbacks too.
People seldom offer to lift things for me, or carry them even. If something needs hauled out to the building, I get no offers for help. If it needs to be installed, I get nothing but volunteered automatically to do the job. My nail breaks, I get no sympathy...what do I need nails for unless it's the hammering in kind? Normally it doesn't bother me, really, since I'm the most capable one in our house for doing these jobs. But sometimes, just occasionally, I'd like to be a lady. Or at least considered one.