Seriously. I just want to be through. I argued with a friend this morning because she projects her bad management experience on to every story about management difficulties like she's the only one who ever had a bad boss. And who wants to get into a shittiest boss pissing contest? But that's what happens when you try to tell a story and she reacts like she's the one being persecuted. She's full of cautionary tales like I don't know how to handle myself. If anyone should be telling stories it's me. I handle my shit and I prevail. When I say fuck them, I mean fuck them, not 'I wish you would like me and be nice to me.' I mean 'even when you come around and realize I am value added to this operation, I still don't respect you. Oh, and we aren't friends and you'll never be confused about that.'
Hate weak ass behavior. Hate it when I do it. I'm a weak ass on the boy/girl scene. No game, no game face, no 'you know how I do.' Nothing. Just punk ass 'wish-he-would-look-past-the-skanks-and-notice-me-wearing-sensible-shoes-and-khakis-with zero-decolatage.' I know that shit is weak, I do. I really do. But I want to win this way. Because if we could get the same amount of attention from each other and from men wearing comfortable clothes, 9/10ths of women would never wear heels or half the shit they put on. Because I managed to snag a cute boy once who thought I was awesome back when I was doing horrible things to my eyebrows (eyebrow famine of 2000, we will never forget. I looked like a drag queen before the makeup) and even less flattering things with clothing. It meant everything to find home and even more that I didn't have to be any more than myself to be desired by someone I actually wanted to want me. I know I could get used to it if I tried but I get so much more attention when I try to look nice that I'm really uncomfortable. Like sweaty, avoiding eye contact uncomfortable. And it's from the same guys who talk to me now; street people, the guy in the cafeteria who wears the 'Mount and Do Me' t-shirts, and building security guards. They just leer more and roll out their super creepy, 'I'm totally going to ask you for your number again' vibe.
Just because I'm a weak ass though doesn't get my girlfriend off the hook. So I'll die alone. Likely to happen whether I skank it up or really just embrace the 'is she a lesbian or just already married with 4 kids' look. Won't keep me from getting shit done at the place I spend most of my life, work. A part of me wonders if men are looking for women who care about what other people think. They roll their eyes when their girlfriends and wives freak out about stuff but I think they would rather have that than someone more like them. Unscientifically I know this. Haven't met a married guy yet who didn't think I was cool but I'm cool in the 'my wife isn't at all concerned that I'm hanging out with you because you're kind of like a dude.' And I kind of work at projecting that vibe because the thought of being sexually threatening to a friend's husband or boyfriend turns me inside out. Total party foul.
Anyway, all that crap took the steam out of my haterade. But for the record, I'm *this* close to punching a box full of kittens. Yes, that's awful because I'm allergic to cats but I would totally take a Benadryl so their little claws don't welt up my fists. That's the last thing I need.
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