Thursday, November 29, 2012

Chivalry died today.

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 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 should. ONE SHOULD HELP.

My back hurts.

Fuck all y'all.

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