It’s no secret to anyone that knows me or has dealt with me in any way that I have serious, serious problems working with women.
This is, I’ve decided, mostly, because I’m a misogynist.
For example, for a group project I was assigned to work with two women. In the process of planning and disturbing the work, one of them remarked that she had plenty of time to work this weekend because her boyfriend was out of town.
This disturbed me on many, many levels.
The first was my initial, automatic, defensive “I don’t want to know about anyone’s personal life unless I absolutely have to” feeling, which generally serves me well.
The next level was more along the lines of, what the fuck is that supposed to mean, anyway? That if her boyfriend wasn’t going to be out of town this weekend she’d be too busy fucking him to work on the project?
This level was immediately followed by me being disturbed at my own, constant, rampant, misogyny.
I was like, yeah, asshole, that’s such a horrible and misogynistic thing to think. I mean, just because she’s blonde. And seems kind of like a bimbo. And yes, she did bring in a site selling expensive foreign perfume to discuss one day but, I mean, you can’t judge someone just because of their penchant for perfume. Or because they wear too much makeup.
Anyway, I feel like I need to possibly try to tone down this rampant misogyny. Maybe. I don’t think I had a point here. This is probably one of those times I should have scrapped the piece, since there’s no point, I’m rambling, and basically it just augers poorly upon me as a writer and person.
Oi. It’s going to be a rough seven weeks.
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