I think I might be done with this writing. That’s good news , right? It feels like there isn’t much left to say. Every day I see more clearly how weak he is, how enrolling . I don’t hate him any more – at least not at the moment. I really do never want to see him again.
But I am angry. Not with him – with the world. And that’s not good, is it? Isn’t there something called transference where you can’t be angry with the person you should be angry with so you get angry with someone else instead?
I’m angry with all the men I know who show no balls in life. Angry with the person who has seen fit to use my email account to send spoof emails to everyone in my address book – which he might think are really from me. Angry with my stalker who thinks it’s enough that he should love me – that I get no choice in the matter. Angry with the dog and cat who both saw fit to poo in my house and keep me awake half the night. Angry with my daughter for encouraging the dog and the other cats, which make our own cat so terrified he poos inside. Angry with people I know who allow piss poor relationships with really important people in their lives to continue to destroy them and each other. Angry with men who flirt and don’t follow through.
Mostly, I’m angry about golf days.
My boss loves them so does the new manager in my team. Because the industries we work in still hold them on the whole and my boss is master of lots of stuff he is doing lots of golf days. He was even slightly apologetic about it the other day. But the fact remain the ways to network in our industry and our business are cricket (the main industry charity) golf and there is a football team. How fucking anachronistic! No wonder there are few senior women! Women are welcome to come and serve drinks or go to the spa. How patronising!
I hate being angry. I hate complaining with no solution. I don’t allow it in myself normally.
I’m hoping that this moment of anger will spur me on to cause something, to make a difference – at least in the sexist networking. Because I can’t provide balls to some of the men I know which are the size of my own.