Friday Check In, Okay It’s Actually A Rant…

Hey guys, I regret to inform you that there in no link love this week. I know you’re disappointed, that handful of internet randomnesss really makes my week too. Today though, I just don’t have a lot of happy to share. I know that thousands of cat videos are a short Google search away, but right now I am feeling a little defeated and glossing over it seems a little dishonest.

It’s been a rough week. My job, while usually merely unfulfilling, has been downright awful. It kicked off with a coworker regaling all of us with her husband’s hospital “nightmare” story. Evidently they were “forced” to interact with several gay nurses, there was even a transgender nurse, and these “people” watched her husband’s post-op bathroom trips. I couldn’t believe the narrow minded hate spewing from her unenlightened mouth. I stood there in horror as my pro-Trump co-workers nodded sympathetically. My supervisor, thank God, gave her a look and said that she didn’t see what the problem was, since sexual preference didn’t dictate job performance, a sentiment I quickly seconded, but it really hurt to see how in the minority our opinions were. My younger brother, who passed away three years ago, was gay. He was also engaged to one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. I don’t expect everyone to be as a pro-LGBTQ as I am, but I do expect them to have basic respect for their fellow humans. It is so wrong to condemn a person based on a single facet of who they are. And I have news for my co-worker, I am 99.9% sure that none of those nurses got any enjoyment out of watching her husband take a piss. It was just a reminder of how little I fit in at my job and how little I can really do to get away. Throw in some screaming clients, incessantly ringing phones and looming deadlines, and I am walking out of the building at the end of everyday completely exhausted and my blood pressure through the roof.

On a grander scale, I am feeling socially impotent. As a plus size tattooed pink haired feminist, I feel like ever damn day I walk out the door, or hell, go online, is a battle. And I say that sitting here in my white hetero middle class privilege, knowing how much worse it is for so many others. But I am tired, and I don’t feel like things are getting better. I know that the fact that the recent Weinstein scandal came out at all means that things are beginning to change, but this isn’t an isolated event. This is the same shit that goes on in lesser forms every damn day. So much so, that we women don’t realize how crazy it is sometimes. I haven’t met a woman yet, who hasn’t had her ass groped in a crowded bar or been inappropriately propositioned by some guy who thought that the fact that he had a penis entitled him to whatever he wanted. I’m tired of having to worry about what I wear and the message it’s sending. Of not feeling comfortable going into certain situations without check-ins and back up. Of being told what is and isn’t acceptable for me to do with my own damn body. Of being valued by my appearance and my cup size instead of my skills or intelligence. Of trying to be an example of tolerance and mutual respect in a world full of raging offensive pontificating assholes. I am tired, but what’s my alternative? To throw my hands up and say, “No mas! It’s too hard!” ? I can’t stop, because that privilege I was referring to earlier? That privilege gives me power, gives weight to my words makes me responsible for pressing forward where others can’t. It’s like that whole Uncle Ben/Spiderman thing “with great power comes great responsibility”.

So what is the take away from all this? I am tired, I am pissy, and I am feeling sorry for myself, but after I have indulged in a good wallow, I will be back at it. Also, just be nice one another. Seriously, if we could just recognize that we are all different and no one has the right to tell us how to live our lives, we’d all be a lot happier. Happy Friday.

About Julie

My name is Julieanna Bucior, but I go by Julie (unless I’m in trouble). I’m thirty one. I am a bookkeeper by day, rogue fashion designer/crafter/amateur baker by night. I spend most of my time feeling like a kindergartner trapped inside an adult’s body. I love reading, hanging out with my crazy cats and being silly. I’m pretty much the girl next door, with a twist.