Good parts about today: coffee was good this morning. Brian split a pumpkin donut with me—this is why Brian is my favorite guy in the entire building, he’s the best. I got a review written and administered and that was the big thing to do before I left. I got to work with someone I adore. My books came. I could’ve wept walking in the door to see that Amazon box sitting there because it means my books came and maybe I can start trying to make sense of this godforsaken mess I call my life again.
Part of the day that was the worst: Waiting on tenterhooks to see if they would term my team member, going to a nice supper, then coming home and finding out they termed my team member. Four days before my vacation. Now, I am not heartless or anything. I would gladly trade my entire vacation for this young woman to not have done whatever she did that cost her this position so that she might have her job back. I love her dearly, I love my entire team, but something caused this to happen and when the term happens this way, it’s not something that could be an accident and so for that reason, while I realize her situation is far worse than mine at the moment, I am not sorry to say this better not fuck up my vacation >:|
I am going to get so irresponsibly drunk, get a massage for sure and possibly even get another hole punched in my head. I am going to leave my phone in my hotel room and let it all be someone else’s problem for a week. I am going to dissolve mindlessly in my job-having, credit-card-possessing privilege and I am not going to be sorry.
And I am going to spend one morning on the beach looking at the waves and wishing, May she be well, may she find peace, and may she be loved.
Beauty Queens by Libba Bray (via luminosiity)
So fucking guilty of that.
Because that it the way that little girls are socialized. Because the moment we start to open our mouths and speak words, we are told that it is our duty to say them softly, sweetly, politely, not to interrupt and not to talk over anyone, that listening is more important than talking, that our elders and betters are talking, that the boys are talking, that it’s not our turn to talk.