I am Jocasta. I am so rich and pretty that I have gone through 2 husbands already, and I am now looking for a third husband. Perhapse my daughter Antigone and my close cousin Haemon will produce a son that I can marry next. I am a very weak woman and I neither like the truth nor can bear the truth. That is why I killed myself: I told Oedipus not to seek out whether he was my son. But, Oedipus sought it out anyway, learned that he was my son, and thus I resolved to kill myself because I could not bear the truth. That is the story of my life. To be specific, I hanged myself as seen in the image to the right of this paragraph.
With my first husband in Apollodorus 3.5.7, I was forced into marriage with a man named Laius. I say forced because I knew Laius to be a very unsavory character long before we got married. For instance, it is rumored in Athenaeus XIII: The Deipnosophists, Chapter 79 that a man named Chrysippus once trusted my husband Laius to be his tutor and mentor. Laius betrayed Chrysippus's trust in him by kidnapping the poor boy and dragging Chrysippus off to Thebes. Laius proceeded with homosexual rapeabuse unto Chrysippus. Chrysippus then proceeded to stab himself out of shame, and his death soon followed. As I woman, I feared greatly: if Laius did such a thing to man, imagine what he would do to a woman. Thankfully, all Laius did to me was get drunk on wine and concieve a child with mephone-call the stork to bring in a new baby. From there onward, everything in my life went smoothly until Oedipus killed Laius and I married Oedipus who turned out to be my son murdering his father in order to copulatephone-call in the stork with his mother who is me.
I tried to keep my appearance is rather simple. When I wake up in the morning, I change my strophion bra. Then, I put on the rest of my cloathes. If the weather is cold enough, then I put customary long sleeved wool himation cloathing to keep warm. More often it is warn enough for me to wear shorter lighter linen chiton under my peplos cloathing. I keep my peplos cloathing from falling down via a belt. Then I rebraid my hair to get ready for the day. If I am in a rush, then sometimes I call in my servents to help me braid my haid. Then, I eat a breakfast consisting of bread dipped in wine. When I have special guests over, I sometimes add figs and olives into the breakfast to spice things up. If it is a Monday, then I go to market to get supplies for the following week. Otherwise, I spent long hours at the loom weaving cloathes and blankets for my family. Then, lunch comes around.
Lunch was more so a light snack in the middle of the day before dinner. For lunch, I usually eat something light such as figs, cheeses, olives, and more bread. If I am feeling abitious, then I might eat something more fille I usually wait for my husband on the loom. I use use this time to finish my current project ot get it to a good stopping point. When my husband Laius or my sonspouse Oedipus arrives home, I help him take off his sandles, and then I listen to his diatribe about today at work. Then, we spend some time taking about current events, debating politics, and analysing current economic trends. I have learned much from my many husbands via these conversations. Later on, we adjorn the conversation to begin preparing for dinner.
Dinner was definately the biggest and most social meal of the day. Over the course of my husbands day at work, he found time to talk to his coworkers and plan for who would be hosting the dinner that night. The dinner responsibility often fell on me, and I enjoyed it. My husband and I have plenty of servants, so making dinner is especially easy for us. Other times, we would simply go over to the arranged person's house for dinner. When we hosted dinner, we would cook up an assortment of chicken eggs, fish, legumes, olives, cheeses, bread, arugula, and cucumbers. This one time, Kopcla, who was one of the less respectful servant boys, thought it would be funny to mix some pure (uncut with water) wine into the honey. Everyone who had honey with their cheese for desert got drunk, and were not happy at all: wine is to be valued for its taste, not for pleasure. Kopcla tried to explain that he was inspired by Gelos, the god of laughter, to do his heinous act. But, we would not have any of it: Kopcla was quickly sold off and I never heard about him since then. After dinner, we would talk together, exchange freindly signs, go back home, and go to bed. That is a summary of what my daily life was like.
