Rush Hashanah

“When we are young, wondering the face of the earth. Wondering what our dreams might be worth. Learning that we’re only immortal for a limited time. ~Rush, Dreamline

My family and I are a bunch of Rush heads. When your family gets together to cook and hang out for a holiday, you probably listen to something pertaining to that holiday. When I am peeling 20 pounds of potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner at my parents’ house, I hear the sounds of Rush. While my dad prepares the grills (yes, plural), he will inevitably make the comment on his way in and out of the house, “Are we celebrating Rush Hashanah girls?” This is usually excitedly directed at me and my mom being that I am always there early because I have no children to get ready for the day. I should note we are not Jewish, and he says this at Christmas, too. One Christmas, at their old house, he had one of their live concerts playing on a television in the kitchen. Does my mom find this annoying? Hell no. Turning on Rush is usually her suggestion. In fact, when I come to town for a visit, I always put on music when we’re having drinks and catching up. I ask what they feel like listening to, and it is typically my mom who pipes up, “Oh, I don’t care. We like your music, or you know, you can always just throw on some Rush.”

When the break came I went to the bathroom…and walked right in. No line. Then it hit me. Oh shit. This place is 99% dudes!

The family love for them goes way back before I was born. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up. We had what we needed, but my parents’ money went to education and our team sports. Family vacations weren’t really an option for the six of us, so we went to concerts. There were various artists, but Rush was always THE concert. When I was finally old enough to go, I thought I might flip out. Back in the 90’s in St. Louis, most large summer tours played at an outdoor venue formerly known as Riverport. It’s near the airport. The entire day was an event. It went like this:

We rented a hotel room at one of the hotels by the venue. There was no school for this girl. We packed coolers full of beer, picked up a bunch of sandwiches from Mom’s Deli (The actual deli, not sandwiches my mom made. Mom doesn’t work on concert day.), piled in the car and drove out to the hotel. I casually mentioned how excited I was to finally hear Tom Sawyer live. We checked in, and then it occurred to me all of us were staying in the same room. No joke, my mom pulled out a single person raft I didn’t even know we had and told me to blow it up because it was my bed. I could sleep wherever I’d like on the floor. I do what I’m told, so I blew the sucker up and put an extra blanket on it she brought. We ate sandwiches and pre-gamed until it was time to catch the shuttle. Then off we went!

Rush has no openers. They play for three hours with a short break in between sets. This is how it was then and how it’s been every time I have seen them since. The first set was still light out, and they played enough cuts that the crowd was good and ready for the second half. When the break came I went to the bathroom…and walked right in. No line. Then it hit me. Oh shit. This place is 99% dudes! (To date, including the 2015 tour, I have never had to stand in line at a Rush concert. It rules.) When the second half started, I heard it. The intro to Tom Sawyer. I instinctively looked at my dad who had turned to look at me at the same time and shouted, “Wooooooooooooo!” In my face. Quite possibly my favorite father/daughter moment. The light show started and the place was a cloud of smoke…from pot, not the stage. I can walk you through the rest of the show, but I’ll sum it up by saying it was one of the best times I’ve ever had. (Also, I wish Geddy, Alex and Neil were my hilarious uncles in real life, and seeing a Neil Peart drum solo live…girrrlll…it’s sick.)

When it was over, we shuttled back, ate more sandwiches and drank beers while drunk-talking about the show. That raft was plenty comfortable that night.


(P.S. I have brought up liking Rush when family comes up to a few dudes since being single. I just wanted to feel them out. So far I’ve been met with strange looks or them not even knowing who they are. But when it does strike a chord, I’ll know I have a contender I can safely invite to Rush Hashanah.)

One Year

“When faced with tragedy, we come alive or come undone.” ~Rise Against, Tragedy + Time

This has been a challenging but overall good week for me. I hit the one year mark of my divorce. Naturally, I’ve done a lot of reflecting, some crying, but mostly a lot of dreaming. I haven’t done a lot of dreaming the last year. I’ve been coping and trying to keep myself from falling apart. I’m happy to report I did not fall apart. I feel strong. I have this weird thing bubbling up that I haven’t felt or exuded in years called confidence. I didn’t even know that could still happen for me. With the exception of a slight hangover from my ladies’ dinner, I can’t remember the last time I felt so good. So free.

Life-changing breakups are just that. Life-changing. Emphasis on changing. They’re not life-ending. Even if it feels like it, you are still very much alive.

I didn’t have any close friends who went through a divorce, so I didn’t have anyone to relate to on that level. It was embarrassing in many ways. I experienced and learned a lot. Here are some of those things:

  • You will learn who your real friends are quickly. Hold on tight to them.
  • Don’t try to hang on to the friends who don’t show up to support you. It will feel like multiple breakups, but keeping them around is toxic. Kick those shitheads out of your life.
  • If you actually process and deal with what just happened, you will be hard to be friends with at times. It will pass. Give it time. See bullet #1.
  • You will have a night where you drink too much and talk shit about your ex to people you probably shouldn’t. Eh, it happens. Try not to spend too much time being embarrassed about it.
  • You will feel lost. Like, lost in the woods without a compass lost.
  • You will feel scared. You’re stronger than you know, so just take a minute to breathe when this happens. Then call one of those awesome friends or family members for support.
  • You will sleep with a stranger. Make sure he is attractive so you feel better about it.
  • You will meet new people. This is a good thing. Not all will become friends, but they popped in your life for a reason. Embrace them. Unless they suck. Then forget what I just said.
  • You will make mistakes. So many mistakes. (see previous posts about dating a pussy and giving my number to a drug dealer)
  • You will do great things. I lost 20 pounds and ran a half marathon by myself.
  • You will be humbled by the amount of times you have to ask for help. Don’t feel like a charity case. People want to help you.
  • You will want to shut the world out. DON’T! This is your chance to start over. Don’t become a bystander.
  • You will learn you are a badass.
  • You will feel like a badass.
  • You ARE a badass.

Dreaming of the future and being hopeful that the best is yet to come is a feeling that took almost a year. Now that it’s here, I don’t want to let it go. If you’re going through a breakup, hold on. The pain phase is temporary. Your life is changing, but it’s also beginning. If you’re holding onto a bad relationship because you’re afraid to hurt, don’t. That, my dear, is life-ending.


I Gave My Number to a Drug Dealer

“I got five on it. Grab your 40, let’s get keyed. I got five on it. Messing with that indo weed. I got five on it. It’s got me stuck and not go back. I got five on it. Partner lets go half on a sack.” ~Luniz, I Got 5 On It

As I have been navigating the single world, I have forced myself to talk to strangers. This is hard for me because of the lessons learned from Dateline, the fact that I am way too nervous to do this alone and…well…yeah, really just Dateline. I should probably ease up on the stranger danger. (I think I am going to write a Dateline Dos and Don’ts pamphlet.)

When I’m with my extroverted pals, they are great at encouraging me to talk to people. In fact, they actually physically nudged me into talking to a person. It turned out to be as weird as you’re imagining. My initial encounter didn’t send off any red flags. He was pleasant and funny. Funny goes a looooonnnngg way with me. Probably too long because I tend to overlook some things. We had a nice conversation, he was quick witted, nice smile, yada yada. He offered to walk me home to which I adoringly replied I had a huge can of mace in my purse. He asked for my number. I said ok. I didn’t really think he was going to call. (Also, I’m told guys don’t call anymore – they text. So much has changed since I was last single. I think only texting and not calling is dumb.)

Then it hit me. Oooohhh! His friend wasn’t a friend, and this errand wasn’t my kind of errand like running to Target to get a bunch of stuff I don’t need.

Wouldn’t you know, I received a text that night? (Yay!) With a smiley face emoji. (Boo!) I forced myself to respond anyway. It was fine. No butterflies with this conversation. I didn’t hear from him after that, so I figured that was the end of it. I didn’t care. He sent me a late night text on a weeknight nine days later asking me what I was doing. I responded with one word. Sleeping. It’s almost midnight, and I’m an adult. I have a job. What am I doing? Really? Also, I forgot about you because it’s been nine days dude. And then….

I ran into him at the same bar I met him the following weekend. This was his spot apparently. He was hanging out in the back. He did come over and say hi. We made some small talk. He left to meet a friend real quick. Then he came back. Alone. He came over and sat down at my table where I was just talking girl smack about him with my friend. You know that conversation…

Me: That dude took nine days to text me and it was super late on a weeknight. Oh yes, please, let’s hang out. (queue dramatic eye roll)

Friend: Fuck that dude.

He was his charming and funny self, so I nearly forgot I was supposed to give him shade. Then he left to run a quick errand asking if I would still be there when he got back “in a few minutes.” I had lost track of time and realized it was midnight. Who runs an errand at midnight? Was it to meet his friend that, I’m guessing, never showed earlier? Then it hit me. Oooohhh! His friend wasn’t a friend, and this errand wasn’t my kind of errand like running to Target to get a bunch of stuff I don’t need. He’s dealing. Awesome. I looked at my friend and said, “You ready to go? I didn’t get divorced to waste time with this shit.” My friend’s response was a spot on, “Yep. Fuck that dude. Let’s go.”

Still feeling the urge to be polite, I texted him I was no longer at the bar. (Why you ask? I have no idea.) I received a “boo!” text in response. I deleted his number. Hopefully he deleted mine. Can we make a phone function where you can delete your number from someone else’s phone so if you meet them under drunk or shady circumstances you can take back your mistake? Like a single lady number take backsies? Ghost number? I don’t know, we can wordsmith the name later. Can someone make that? I’m not capable of anything tech-wise other than ideas. I just recently found out I have a Do Not Disturb function so when assholes text you nine days later around midnight it doesn’t wake you up…


The Introverted Extrovert

“Went to where the people were on a Saturday night. Seems like it always seems. Where I go I want to leave. I surprised myself as my mouth started speaking. There was nothing left of my nerves as I leaned over to ask her. Pardon the intrusion. Could we leave before it gets bad? I might smash up all the windows. And set fire to the curtains.” ~Matt Pond PA, Halloween

I’m an introvert. I’m also an extrovert. Say what? Yep. I have done a lot of reading on this topic and taken countless online tests and quizzes. Every result is split down the middle. Half of my answers lean towards being an introvert and the other half leans towards being an extrovert. It’s very confusing. I envy those who lean hard one way or the other. There is no gray area of what you need to feel energized. For me, half the time I go out I wonder why the hell I left the house in the first place. Other times, I’m at ease and excited to embrace something new and meet new people. It’s a challenge.

I have good friends that are both introverts and extroverts. The beauty of being on the cusp of both is that I can relate and get energized from all of them. It’s great. No hang time is a bad time!

I have been paying attention to how I feel in my surroundings and discovered the line, for the most part, gets drawn between work and personal time.

I enjoy solitary work. Most of the positions I have sought out and held do require being part of a team, but my portion of the work are tasks and projects that are done solo then provided to the team for input…all while I am still sitting alone, behind a desk. The days I work from home? Sweet Denise Schneider! (That’s from the movie Safe Men.) I am so unbelievably happy. I don’t have to talk to anyone outside of work stuff. I am in the comfort of my home. I feel like I could run a marathon at the end of the day. Not really. More like a 5k at best, but still! I’m so energized from those work from home days that…

…yes. I immediately want to start making plans for the weekend. Out of my house. With multiple people. Somewhere that could be crowded or loud and people might look at me. Why?? Does this make any sense?

The ambivert struggle is real. Here are some things I do/have done as an ambivert:

  • I will talk to my friends at a bar until it closes. If I have to pee at that bar, I will make zero eye contact with strangers on the way to the bathroom and feel a sigh of relief when I get back to where my friends are sitting. A crowded bar can be too overwhelming sometimes. 
  • I love meeting new people…when I have people I know standing there with me. If you’re a friend of my friend? Even better. I’ll talk your ear off and want to know every detail about you. Otherwise, I’ll probably start and end the conversation with hello – if I even make eye contact with you at all. Please don’t stare at me.
  • I would love to go on a vacation with you…for like, four days tops. Then I need to go to home and not be by anyone. Actually, I probably won’t call you for a week, but I love you and had the best time!
  • My work colleagues probably think I’m a crazy pet lady who sits at home being responsible about all matters of my life. My friends know I’m both a crazy pet lady but also a chatty babe who likes to take over the juke box at bars when I’m comfortable and start dance parties when no one else is dancing. If they saw my work person, they would be confused.
  • At the end of a draining work week, I want nothing more than to be left alone. I’ll stay in all weekend because I need it to recharge. Then on Sunday, I panic because I spent the entire weekend riding solo. What have I done all weekend? Nothing? AHH!
  • If you’re quiet, I got you. I’ll do the talking. If you’re loud, I’m going to sit here and listen. Balance, my friends. I need it apparently.
  • I played sports my entire life and was captain of my high school and college teams. I put myself out there because I wanted to be a leader. After games I would go home and sit in my room with the door closed listening to music by myself. I was mentally drained and needed to reset. 
  • If you asked me to list some of the best times of my life, they would include days of late nights, rock ‘n roll, debauchery and setting things on fire in a wheel barrel with my loudest friends, some I only knew at surface level. They would also include hiking in the most beautiful scenery with old friends where barely a word was spoken.
  • Sometimes when I am at home with my animals, I feel this overwhelming sense of happiness; I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I need their peaceful energy.
  • Other times, I feel like if I don’t go out until the wee hours of the morning with my friends, I might not be able to face another work week. I need their crazy energy.
  • I’ve been called the life of the party, an old soul, a wallflower, someone who can talk to anyone, observant, intuitive, shy, outgoing, that I read people well and someone who lives in the moment. Did you follow that?

It’s weird, right? In the right setting, I don’t care if people are paying attention to me. Otherwise, please no one look at me. Don’t force me to make small talk. I can do it. I’ll do it. I don’t want to do it.

Three terms to describe people is pretty broad. I get there are varying levels to being an introvert, extrovert and ambivert, but there has to be more to describe complex behavior patterns. Please scientists and doctors, make a new term! Give the people what they want! How much is genetic, environmental, consequential…I don’t know. I just know I constantly toe the line. I’ve managed to trick some amazing people into being my friends from both worlds. I just wish there was a week where I didn’t feel like I wanted to take on the world, try new things while simultaneously keeping the covers over my head so no one could make small talk about the weather. I’m not asking for much, right?

Youngest of Four

“I remember way back then when everything was true. And when we would have such a very good time. Such a fine time, such a happy time. And I remember how we’d play, simply waste the day away. Then we’d say nothing would come between us, two dreamers.” ~Madness, Our House 

I’m the youngest of four. I noticed recently I say this rather than telling people I’m the baby of the family. The term “baby of the family” annoys me. Mostly because I feel like I got totally screwed on being treated like the “baby of the family.” I didn’t get away with shit! When people ask if I have siblings, I say yes. I have three. The conversation usually goes like this:

Person: Oh, you have three siblings?

Me: Yep. Two brothers and one sister.

Person: Oh, are you the oldest?

Me: Nope. I’m the youngest.

Person: OOOOOHHHHHHH! So you’re the baby of the family?

Me: No. I’m the youngest.

See?! I completely avoid it even when they technically got my birth order right. I tell them they’re wrong and then reword what they just said. I could agree to end the conversation, but I don’t. And I won’t. The conversation usually continues along these lines:

Person: I bet you got away with everything.

Me: No. I didn’t get away with shit. I’m the youngest. My parents knew all the tricks by the time they got to me.

Person: Oh, yeah right. The baby of the family always gets away with everything.

Me: Yeah, people always tell me that, but that’s not what happened.

Person: I bet your parents gave you everything they didn’t give your siblings.

Me: No. They treated us all the same.

The conversation usually ends there – mostly because they can hear a slight hint of anger in my voice. Sometimes they keep insisting I was treated better than everyone else, and I just get quiet. (It is true. I didn’t really get in trouble, but that’s because I didn’t do a lot of bad stuff!)

I have heard this baby tale my entire life. The baby of the family gets spoiled, gets away with everything, never gets in trouble, blah blah blah. I’m not mad because they’re calling me a baby. Ok, I’m a little mad at that. I’m mad because I feel like I got screwed in my birth order! My parents were so wonderful in their thinking of trying to treat all of us the same, and I’m glad those jerks did. I wouldn’t change a thing….but damn it! Other youngest kids in the family got later curfews? Didn’t have to get jobs? Their parents didn’t yell at them when they were acting like an ungrateful jackass? I can’t believe it because I can’t imagine it. That’s just not how things went down in my house.

What perks did being the youngest in my family get me? There were some:

  • My brother once told me that if I fell asleep with any of my limbs hanging outside the covers, a man comes in the middle of the night and chops them off. (I still sleep fully-covered.)
  • My other brother used to chase me, tackle me, put his knees into my shoulders so I couldn’t move my arms then slowly spit and suck it back up just before it hit my face. Sometimes, he didn’t suck it back up in time. (Consequently, I’m a tough cookie.)
  • I did get to hear my parents’ complain about my other siblings mistakes then offer up solutions. For example: “If they would just spend the night at their friends’ house, they wouldn’t get in trouble for drinking.” Oh, really? I was a rule follower, but I was not afraid to call their bluff. I did and was sooo looking forward to calling them hypocrites. They weren’t. They held true to their word. See? I got nothing! Where was the fun in that?
  • I got to watch my siblings go through high school, college, breakups, fights with friends, fail and succeed for the first time. I got a heads up on what was to come so it wasn’t so scary. (They owed me for the limb-chopping story).
  • I got all the hand-me-downs. That sounds negative, but it’s not. I was so pumped to get my sister’s clothes.
  • I got to experience what it was like to be an only child as a near-adult. That’s a perk the youngest probably only gets and remembers. Well, unless your older siblings don’t grow up and move the hell out. Being a near-adult only child was cool for like, a weekend. Then I missed my peeps. I learned I loved my siblings.
  • Support. I got a lot of support and encouragement. My sister was quick to threaten and offer to beat up anyone being mean to me. She still does. It rules.
  • My life got threatened a lot. If I got caught stealing toys, clothes, CDs, etc. my ass was grass. Did I stop? Hell no. I just got crafty at “borrowing” and putting things back very carefully.
  • I got zero turns at Nintendo when I was a kid. My brother’s hogged it. When I finally got a turn, I was so bad from never getting to play, I died within less than a minute. They would immediately take the controller back. I learned life is not fair. Truth!
  • I learned how to spot a cheater when playing games. When you’re the youngest, they think you’re naïve and won’t notice. In my family, they’re easy to spot. Everyone in my family is a cheater except my mom.

I guess being the youngest does have its perks, even if it isn’t the mythical perks of being spoiled and having no rules. I don’t have kids, but I am pretty confident if I am lucky enough to have more than one I would follow my parents’ lead on this one. It’s the way to go. Don’t baby your youngest. You don’t want them walking through life like a total pussy.

If you are the youngest, you have to pay attention to what’s going on around you or you’ll miss the whole show. If you miss it, that’s on you. Life’s not fair, kid.

Sugar is My Drug of Choice

“I have seen, I have seen what these changes mean to me. If you’re thinkin’ of changin’. If you’re thinkin’ of stayin’ with me. We need to agree. We need to make some changes. We need what we need. Do I need you? Do you need me?” ~Sugar, Changes

I’m embarrassed to admit, I recently had to curb my sugar addiction. It was awful, but it needed to be done. I craved candy like a crazy person. I knew every office and cubicle that had a candy stash. I went out of my way to take candy out of their bowl…when they weren’t there so they wouldn’t know how many times I was stopping by to take a piece…two pieces… I even had my own stash at work and home. Even after all of that, I would sneak down to the vending machine. My work vending machine has my favorite candy bar, Take 5. Once I wanted a Take 5 candy bar so bad, I went down to the vending machine and got angry when there was a bunch of Pay Days in front of the Take 5s. I remember thinking, “Fuck you Pay Day!” Super normal reaction, right? I didn’t take this as a sign to not eat candy. Oh no. I did the right thing and bought the three Pay Days to get to it. I saw no problem with this. I started running and working out more so I could swipe office candy and stay within my daily calorie count. I would get so excited on my long run days because this sugar fiend could eat some cookies!

When did I hit rock bottom? I think I hit it a couple of times. On the day after Valentine’s Day I got pumped for discount candy. That was not a typo. I waited ON PURPOSE to buy myself Valentine’s Day candy because it was 30% off. I texted my friend about it a week before, the day before and then sent a picture of me with my candy right after I bought it. I didn’t even wait until I got home to open it. I inhaled them like a crazy person and got mad (actually mad) when it was gone.

V Day Candy

I’m so excited like I won a prize. I took the picture before I even started my car! What is wrong with me?

It got worse. I went to the grocery store hungry and came home with a box of cookies. I ate a couple and went back 15 minutes later for two more…and so on. When it was half gone, I snapped out of it and threw them out. But then…I can’t even believe I did this…I pulled them out. I ate a few more while standing over the trash can like an animal. When I stepped outside my body and saw my sad self, I finally threw them out for good (I poured water on them and then immediately took the trash out). I told my friend about it because I felt like someone needed to know. In my sugar brain, if I admitted my shame out loud I wouldn’t eat trash cookies again. (Her response was not judgmental but one of laughter. She followed her laughter by recommending I watch the Sex and the City episode where Miranda eats chocolate out of the trash. This was surprisingly comforting. Someone must have done this before me to make an episode about it, right? Yes? Cool.) I haven’t done it since, but I can’t say I’ll never do that again. I don’t know what kind of shit the future holds.

Was work stressing me out? Nope. Sugar withdrawal, ya’ll!

When I couldn’t outrun my sugar calories, I decided it was time to get myself in check. I can’t afford to buy all new pants. Wouldn’t you know, my main man Steve Harvey came to the rescue again? He had a couple of trainers on his show doing a competition, and I paid attention to their meals plans. I decided to give one a try for a couple of weeks because it focused on limiting sugar. I thought this might help to curb my sugar addiction. Why not, right?

Did it work? Oh, yes. It worked, but it was not painless. I don’t mean it sucked because of cutting calories. I was already doing that. It’s just that half those calories were candy and carbs. It sucked because on day 2-3 I had a screaming headache. Pain meds did not help. At first I wondered if I had a stress headache. Was work stressing me out? Nope. Sugar withdrawal, ya’ll! (Sorry. I never say ya’ll. It just rhymed.) The headaches were so bad I never want to go through this again. It hurt to sleep. I was so mad at those mini candy bars lurking around my office. I was mad at myself, too, but mostly at the makers of all things delicious.

I have since maintained most of a low sugar intake because I lost more weight than I anticipated. Oh, and I feel good, yada yada yada. But realistically I will never give up candy for good. I have mostly kept myself in check. Except for one major free for all last week, I feel like I can safely say, I curbed my addiction. I still love all things chocolate and sweet, but for the love….no more slamming of cabinet doors because there is no candy in the house while I yell at myself to eat a vegetable and to get it together, woman!




Kind of a Bitch

“I want to say a little something that’s long overdue. The disrespect to women has got be through. To all the mothers and sisters and the wives and friends I want to offer my love and respect to the end.” ~Beastie Boys, Sure Shot

I’ve been in the workforce for quite some time. For the most part, my experiences have been positive. At one point in my career I found myself working in a bit of a boys club. At first I didn’t think anything of it. Half my friends are dudes. I have brothers. I’m not intimidated or uncomfortable in any shape or form being the only girl in a room. Do I like it? No. Can I handle it? Yes. Nothing compares to being picked on by your older brothers. I have thick skin.

Back to work stuff. I find most people do treat you fairly, focus on your performance and are open to your ideas. However, I have experienced some unfortunate things because I was female from a male colleague. One experience went like this…

    • He gave feedback on my work that included smiley faces and (as much as I wanted to pretend otherwise) flirty messaging. I thought…smiley faces? Is he grading my work like a school teacher? Is this the modern version of Way To Go stickers? Is this supposed to make me feel good about myself because it’s doing the opposite…
    • He talked to me in a way he didn’t talk to his male counterparts. The communication wasn’t professional so much as…you look nice today…I like your hair.
    • He questioned all of the data and information I provided for projects. He only ran with my ideas when another male counterpart backed me up. Then he would say, “Oh. That’s probably annoying that I am always questioning you.” I confirmed it was annoying. He would apologize. Then he would immediately question my data for the next project. He would follow up with, “Oh man. I can’t believe it. There I go again!” (I couldn’t believe this dude either.)
    • One time I held him accountable for his portion of a project, and he responded by calling me mean (followed by a smiley face)…you know…like he does all of his male counterparts…
    • When I ignored the name calling and held firm in my position, he tried a new approach of feigning respect. He respected me SO much that he hoped I started to get tough on everyone. IN FACT, you know what? You guys should make it a new goal to have someone call him and say, “You know what? She’s kind of a bitch.” Then he would know you really rattled some cages and put the hammer down on someone. (I was as confused as you are about this conversation. Why do I want people calling me a bitch? Rattle cages? Dude. I just need you to get your shit in on time!)
    • It became clear this dude wanted to sleep with me. (It took me a minute, but I caught on.) What year is it?

Did these things happen over the course of my time at that job? No. This was just a snapshot of four days with this person. Should I have reported him? Probably. I didn’t. Being older and wiser, this won’t happen again.

There’s a saying by Martin Luther King Jr. that I love. It goes: Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity. I fully believe this to be true. There’s also a saying that goes: Without stupid people, we would have nothing to laugh at. I think that’s how that one goes. I don’t know who said that one. I laughed a lot at that job.

My initial reaction to being treated unfairly because of my gender is anger. It’s immediately followed up by being happy I’m not that ignorant. This experience wasn’t the first and, sad to say, won’t be the last. He will get his one day. Karma is a bitch. (I don’t know who said that one either.) Speaking of bitches, who was really being “kind of a bitch”, here?

Tip: Fellas. Unless you’re a teenager, do not use emojis when flirting with women. You look ridiculous.