I woke up this morning and realized that in almost every job I’ve had I’ve been bullied and/or sexually harassed. Is this normal? I asked my husband that question and he said, “What do you expect my answer to be? Of course not!” And my answer to him was, “Not for you perhaps.” He’s not … Continue reading Is this normal?
Getting my tubes tied on Friday. I like that euphemism. Tubes tied. Sounds like engineering or plumbing. Neutral, benign. Unlike sterilization, which sounds like a salted Earth approach to birth control, which, let’s be honest, it is. It also brings to mind forced sterilizations; of prisoners, people of color, poor people, disabled people, all against … Continue reading The Gordian Knot
I’m reading A More Beautiful Question, a book I bought oh so many moons ago to ask the right kinds of questions of the data sets I was working with. It wasn’t what I expected. It was more airy-fairy and nebulous, and perhaps disturbing at some fundamental level because it questioned me in ways I … Continue reading The Deferred-life Plan
In my late teens an accountant paid me $10/hour to clean her place. The first time someone paid me a good wage where my parents didn’t talk her down. It was necessary too. I was allergic to cats but I was primarily cleaning up cat hair and covert cat turds. Covert as in behind all … Continue reading I used to clean houses.
The flavor of the day was failure. Since I made the decision to leave my job around two weeks ago my brain has delighted in torturing me with my ‘failure’ to make the position work. It has an almost magical ability to reframe every word, or thought into some reflection of failure. It’s fascinating to … Continue reading How to feel like a failure
Well, first a library volunteer and then a librarian’s assistant. As a volunteer I would retrieve books from the book drop and reshelve them. I don’t remember much else from that time, other than frequently getting caught reading in the book drop. I’d drag a cart to the book drop with the best of intentions, … Continue reading I used to be a librarian
Today, I have given myself permission to lay in bed as long as I want. Which means I’m sitting up in bed, typing, with a heat pad in the small of my back. The cat is sitting on the windowsill, mewling about his tragic fate as an indoor cat, while I, equally morosely, wonder what … Continue reading Permission to rest