Jessica Biel Exhausted Working Mom

Identity politics is a bitch for Privileged White Women. Theirs has a horrible victimhood rating. It’s why upscale white women are the most outraged and adamant about the problems plaguing the other groups. If you scream loud enough about Black Lives Matters or how women in states you’d never dream of visiting have to come up with the two-fifty for their abortions, nobody will notice you’re doing rather well yourself in this new world order. 

These Peloton cyclers are now breaking fast into generically sympathetic female oppression camps like Sexually Harassed Chick, Slut Shamed Millennial, or as Jessica Biel has chosen for her 2017 face of pain, Exhausted Working Mom.

Biel has been staging Instagram shoots to symbolize the zeitgeist of the sleepy, tousled, never a restful moment working mom of a two year old. Biel’s previous visualization of her exhausting life was a photo of her breakfast food in the shower.

“Yes. I eat in the shower. I admit it. Chicken apple sausage and espresso. Try it. I dare you.”

Perfectly heroic. Too slammed for time. Minus the two hours spent to perfectly produce the photo, or approximately thirty times the amount of time it takes to eat breakfast at the table. 

Biel’s follow up embedded mommy war photos include a photo of her falling asleep in the front seat of a car. Who’s ever heard of such a thing, save for exhausted moms and fat people. 

SPOTTED! In her natural state, notice the slack jaw, deep sleep and palpable fatigue of this creature. Yes, it is a working mom.

The alarming gotcha note seems fairly contrived. Obviously somebody took the photo and then showed it to you and you said it would be perfect and asked them to send it to you and you posted it after tinkering with the caption forever.

Here’s the conundrum run into by couples with a net worth of $250 million. You can’t win this game. You can’t really even play. Nobody believes your life is hard. Either you’ve got five people helping you out with that single kid so you never miss a Pilates class or a moment of sleep, or why the fuck don’t you have five people helping you out, idiot?

Pose with your kid once a week at the Farmer’s Market for twenty minutes like the others and hand them off to the more than capable Guatemalans. We don’t want our sexy rich chicks exhausted from having to feed a difficult toddler. We want them looking fuckable perfect. Social media stats are giving you the wrong idea. 80,000 women liked your relatable every woman post. 50 million are watching you at the Oscars in that low cut dress, half of them with their pud in their palm. Blessed celebrity may not be the most sympathetic identity, but it’s the only one can perform honestly. More sauna pictures please.