What Do YOU Do All Day?

I have to rant. I was recently asked this question, emphasis on the do, and not for the first time. It may or may not be a coincidence that the person asking this time was an older male, comfortable and clueless in his delusions of patriarchal superiority. I have received the same query from women, although with the emphasis, a little less aggressively, on the what. Let’s examine why this question is disrespectful and offensive, and what you might ask instead if you’re truly curious and not merely trying to signal disdain.

When you ask the question, with your brow furrowed or your head shaking in wonderment, you’re implying that because my life doesn't look like yours (i.e. because I’m a woman without a partner or a conventional job, or I don’t belong to a country club, or fill-in-the-blank), I couldn’t possibly have enough worthwhile activities with which to pass twenty-four hours. That maybe I’m floating in my pool drinking vodka tonics, or lying on the couch weeping, or otherwise languishing. Maddening in and of itself, but the fact that the question was raised most often at a time when I was singlehandedly caring for a disabled child and a neurotic new puppy while relocating and establishing a new home, all while being threatened with legal and financial annihilation, was enough to drive me around the bend. You’re also implying that what I do all day is any of your business, so you might want to ensure that it could be. That we know each other at least a little bit.

The evolution of my responses to this intrusion reflects the growing consciousness afforded by my healing and eventual growth. Back in the day, despite dealing with a task list that might have made Sisyphus cry, I would absorb the inquirer’s incorrect, contemptuous image of myself, because what did I do all day that was important, that was worthy, in the eyes of our culture? I would offer an apology for just taking care of my family and doing a little freelance work on the side. (It took me a few years to want to hug the woman I was then without throttling her first.) As I began to emerge from my fog, I’d answer the question with stumbling attempts at listing some of the many things I did in an effort to prove my worth. Later still, I would prepare ahead of time (an indication that I was spending too much time around the wrong sort of people): I would present a succinct synopsis of my busy, worthy life.

Until, finally, light dawned. This question, at least in its antagonistic form, was not a request for information at all. It was an aggression, an attempt, at the very least, to signal dominance. And as such, it didn’t need to be taken seriously. So now, when the question does arise (and it’s funny how that happens less as I’ve gained self-esteem and confidence), depending on a number of factors, I go with one of the following:

“What do I do about what?”

“Whatever I want.”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Why, what do you do all day?”

And, because I still believe that there are people out there with good intentions, if you’re genuinely trying to get to know or understand someone, you might instead try:

“What keeps you busiest?”

“What are you most excited about?”

“What’s your favorite part of the day?”

Really, the variations are endless. Expand those horizons.

***

Let’s talk. Do you find this question as annoying as I do? Have you ever been asked it with an air of disdain? Who was asking and how did you respond?

Also, let’s normalize not making busyness a badge of honor. What are some of your favorite “non-productive” parts of your day? I’ll go first: my morning coffee, attacking the New York Times Spelling Bee, nap time, transitioning to evening with a cocktail or a board game (or both).