I was never much of a coffee drinker…. I am turning into my grandma.
Recently, I have been unabashedly declaring That “ I am a writer that hates to write”, it’s too much work, I wanna float around.
Woe is talented little entitled me.
I dread the turning of every month, I dread feeling that little stab my fallopian tubes give me to signal “Your eggo can get preggo.”
My ‘period incoming’ bell begins to ring and I rush to complete any tasks both professional and social I may have outstanding in the next ten days.
A woman’s life has to be worth SOMETHING, we are not simply hosts for new life.
We are not dirty, filthy, sinful and destitute.
If it takes raising men, in a way my young feminist self considered kinda sexist, might it not be worth it for women in the long run?
I am Sick of women getting blamed!
I love being a girl…