Okay, I accept my role in this office. I am the bitch. I am the low man on the totem pole. I do what I'm told and crawl around on the floor and clean up people's shit. That's fine, whatever.
I also accept that my job this week involves nothing but organizing, tidying, cleaning, and dropping things on my feet. Sure, this is fine too. But if I am dragging a big piece of furniture across the floor, and you happen to walk right in front of me, and you have a penis, and arm muscles, you could like...help? Maybe? Is that not allowed? Because you make more money than me, and you use your brain for your job (supposedly), you don't even feel a twinge of guilt when you fucking walk around me? Seriously? That's where we're at right now? There's no chivalry in the walls of an office? Gotcha.
Believe me, I am a feminist. A loud and shouty one. I am perfectly capable of carrying heavy shit on my own and dragging boxes across the floor and lifting up desks. I can do all this just fine, thank you. But I do think that, if one happens to see me doing something along these lines, and one has the strength and ability to assist me and make my life a little easier without damaging one's own...one should. ONE SHOULD HELP.
My back hurts.
Fuck all y'all.
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