The Seattle School of Driving; Or, How to Drive Like an Asshole

I've learned a lot in the year I've lived in Seattle about driving. I did most of my driving before either in my hometown of Las Vegas, or Lafayette, IN. The former didn't really have a "style," as it's a city of mostly transplants from other places, so your best method is just to drive super defensively (to the point where it can actually get kind of aggressive; more on that later) to avoid the douchebags bringing in more erratic or dangerous driving styles from their place of origin. The latter is pretty laid back and calm; you may get oddly passed every now and then, but I found I got angry at pedestrians more than drivers when I was in grad school. 

Seattle drivers are from an entirely different school altogether. Some new techniques I've learned from them:

1) Try to avoid using your blinker whenever possible while changing lanes. Also try not to use it if you're turning anywhere (be it onto another street, leaving or entering a parking space, whatever). People don't actually need turning signals to know what's going on; they should be watching your tires!

2) If you do use your turning signal, make sure it's when you're already 2/3 done with whatever action it would indicate (i.e. once over half of your vehicle is into the next lane or your nose is already in the parking space). Just in case they were too stupid to think your turn signal matters. 

3) Go right on through a four-way stop if someone right in front of you is going, even if someone else in the cross-traffic is waiting. It's just one extra car, it won't make them any later or earlier, right?

4) Wait until the very last second to merge if your lane is ending, and never ever ever let anyone else merge if you're in the lane being merged into at any given time. There's no zipper, it's first-come, first-serve, dog-eat-dog, survival of the fittest, bitchez!

5) Don't use your mirrors when merging or changing lanes. It's their responsibility to move for you, after all- and you have every right to honk back and flip them the birdy if they honk at you to stop you. 

6) Don't wait for the lines between lanes to break, just cross over a solid if there's room. What  if someone else takes the space!?

7) If traffic on a side street is congested, it's totally okay to block an intersection when the light ahead of you is red. Just go forward as far as you can, no matter what. Every foot counts!

8) If the light ahead is red and the person in front of you is slowing down, you should totally crank it and pass them really fast. First to the light is the first to go once it's green, after all!

9) Red arrows don't mean shit. 

10) It matters not what direction you're driving when the spaces in a parking lot are angles, so long as you're getting a space. 

11) When spaces aren't angled, always block both directions to wait for a space. You don't want some asshole to take it!

12) And don't use a turn signal while waiting; again, you don't want some asshole to realize you're waiting for a space and sneak into yours!

13) And also wait as close as possible to the car about to leave its space so the driver has to guess and hope they have room; and wave an angry fist if they indicate they need you to back up a bit or if you end up realizing you're too close. It's their fault for being in your space, damnit! 

14) If someone isn't going more than five miles per hour over the speed limit, even if they're in the right lane, tailgate them. They shouldn't be driving that slow, you have places to be, gorrammit!

15) If there's traffic and  it looks at all like the lane next to yours is moving even a few more inches per hour than yours, merge into it, remembering the first two rules. Gotta get there faster, and they should know about blinkers. 

16) If someone ever has the gall to not make space for you to get into their lane, find a way to get in front of them, then break-check their ass as many times as possible. That's what they get for not letting you in earlier!

17) Because after all, less than 1/3 of a car's length is more than enough room to switch into the next lane. 

18) Speed. All the time. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

19) There are no rules for traffic circles. Just do what you want, whether you were first or not; the other person will always yield to you.

20) But actual yield signs don't mean shit. 

Ron is every Seattliete ever in Driver's Ed

I'm sure I forgot some, but the basic idea is that Seattle drivers are assholes, and I encounter over half of all of these every time I'm in my car. Sometimes all of them in one day (and a few times, it has happened on one trip). And I see people do more than one of them in a row. Just the other day, a gal cut me off without her turn signal and when not even half of a car length was open between myself and the car in front of me, switched into the new, emerging lane when the line was still solid, again cutting someone off, and then refused to let anyone else in. I should add the second person she cut off honked to try to warn her they were too close to each other, and her response was to stick her middle finger out the window and keep going (so we both had to break-slam). All of that shit is typical. I'm not surprised by seeing it anymore, but that doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off any less. Not only is a lot of shit these people here do illegal, it's DANGEROUS (which yes, is why so much of it is illegal). 

This shit is why I was in not one but two accidents. Mostly because of the last rule. My first accident was because a dude was going at least 60 in a 30 and t-boned me; the second was because a dude was going probably 70 on a 45 exchange that curved really suddenly, so he fishtailed and I went into the ditch to avoid a head-on collision (which the insurance company thus said was my fault, which is an entirely different rant- what's the point of having insurance to "protect" myself when I'm penalized for... protecting myself!?). I gotmy first ticket for doing that aggressively-defensive thing I picked up on in Vegas, too: I was being tailgated by a huge Escalade (and remember, I drive Subaru Impreza), and I kept speeding up to increase the distance, but the asshole eventually pushed me into the blind spot behind a huge 18-wheeler, so I sped up more to pass the 18-wheeler (that was also speeding) and got clocked at my max as I was getting around it. 

But if I had a nickel for every accident I avoided because I got out of the way of some asshole not using their blinker or that insisted on right-of-way somewhere, I could buy tickets to Hawaii for me and my boyfriend. And probably a hotel for a few nights, too. And some pina coladas.

Seriously, this was me my first couple months here:

I can drive defensively enough that I do get honked at a lot, but nowadays, my attitude is more like this:

Now don't get me wrong, Seattle traffic is terrible. Honestly, I think  it's worse since that study. It takes me over an hour to go 12 miles in the middle of traffic on a route that can take me 17 minutes when there isn't. I've lost way more than 63 hours in my year here. I kind of hate that I have to be out the door before 8am in order to be positive I won't be late for a 9:30am shift. And while the assholery isn't the sole cause of the problems (there are far too many choke points on each highway, and none of them were designed anticipating the volume of drivers during peak hours using  them now), it certainly doesn't help (the choke points wouldn't be as bad if people zipper merged, for example). 

"It's Not Personal" = Hogwash

Wow, I haven’t blogged in forever. I’m sorry, folks- not that I think any of you actually missed me, but y’know. Things in my life kept kind of hitting the fan, and I had higher priorities, like not being homeless, like keeping my dog safe, like not missing my car payment(s), moving across the country…

Sigh.

I can kind of breathe again,  though, so I figured I’d go on a little rant that’s been sitting in my chest.

I love You’ve Got Mail. I know I should see the original, The Shop Around the Corner (Jimmy Stewart! Also, the first movie is actually based on a play, and there's also a musical starring Judy F***ing Garland!,) but if you put aside the out-datedness of AOL (including suspending your disbelief at the movie’s very title…), it’s just perfect*. One  of the scenes that sticks out the most for me, that hit home like a certain Norse god’s/ comic character’s hammer, was one where Meg Ryan’s character is talking about how her shop was closed. She bashes the, “It’s not personal, it’s business,” excuse with,

“All that means is it wasn’t personal to you. Well, it was personal to me.”

I feel like that  so much in life. I wear my heart on my sleeve, so I do, I take things personal probably more frequently than I should. But at the same time, she has a point. “It’s not personal,” is a way that people who are knowingly hurting someone make themselves feel better. And it’s sometimes way obvious, too, that the person is trying to excuse whatever incorrigible behavior they’ve just exhibited.

I mean, I’m sure the  woman that kicked me out of her apartment last summer thought it “wasn’t personal” because her excuse was her dog allergy. But it most certainly was personal to me and my dog. We were almost homeless, more than once, because of her. Of course I’m going to take it personal- I thought she was my friend, and she was willing to throw me and River out on the street (after getting over a grand out of me, ‘natch). I don’t care if she said it “[had] nothing to do with [me]” and that it was “[her] allergies that [were] the problem.” It had EVERYTHING to do with me, I was being kicked out.

And I find it quite hard to believe the customer at the clothing store I work  at didn’t mean it to be personal when she said, somewhat hostilely, “You don’t look big enough to shop here, how come  you work  here?” The way her eyes were boring into me as she glared, like she was hoping I would just keel over and die, there’s no way she hadn’t intended to insult me. Yet she prefaced it with, “Now, don’t take  this personal, but…” So of course I took it personal. The fat shaming I’ve experienced aside (because the “I don’t fit in/ will never be attractive in any context” button was certainly pushed), why should my body type really matter if I’m good at picking out cute  pieces for the women that walk into my store? I mean sure, I’ve had skinny friends not “get it” and shove stuff that I couldn’t even get over The Girls into my hands before, but you’d think the fact that I was working there would be proof I wasn’t going to do that. I felt even uglier and smaller (in the metaphysical sense) when she said that to me- yes, I took it personal.

(Sidenote: I also have gals ask me when my baby is due. So some people think I'm too skinny to work at my store, others think I'm preggars. I can't win. Seriously.)

I take it personal when customers at either store start complaining (read: screaming) about something I have no control over, like the cost of something, or a particular policy. Especially when they keep using the word "you" when expressing their anger. I don't care how profusely you apologize after a tirade (and honestly, it's usually half-assed, at best) and tell me it's "not [me], [you're] just frustrated," the damage has been done. You have attacked me by taking that frustration out on me. That shit's personal. 

I take it personal when a really flaky person flakes out again. I should know it’s their behavior, their pattern, but I still feel hurt. They had promised they’d go to the thing, do the whatever with me, and bailed. Friends don’t do that. Or at least, they shouldn't. And if a "friend" keeps flaking on me, I'm going to start thinking they don't actually care about me. Because if they did, they should think I'm worth following through for. 

“It’s not personal,” is a lot like  the, “It’s not you, it’s me,” line,  which is a lot like the, “You’re great, but I’m just not attracted to you,” line speech. I don’t know how a man can tell me all of the great things about me while rejecting me, then expect me not to take it personal (and also think there’s something else he’s not telling me,  some criteria  I don’t meet or aspect of me that makes me not good  enough for them). Of course I’m taking it  personal, asshole, you’re telling me you don’t want me! Me, as in the person, me. The person right in front  of you (that’s probably crying). You’re telling me you don’t see yourself ever being attracted to me.**

When someone is saying something they did or said wasn’t personal, it’s because they know someone has been hurt. They have victimized that other person, and are trying to cover their tracks. And in the case that they say it wasn’t personal in earnest, they’re speaking from a place of privilege, even if somewhat weird or theoretical. Because if A has hurt B, A is in a position of power. This is especially evident with the people that use the little disclaimer, the, “Now don’t take  this personal, but…”- it’s like saying, “I don’t mean to be racist, but…” You say  it because you know it’s hurtful, that the person will take  it personally, because it ends up being a personal attack or having a  direct (negative) impact.

When you come back and proclaim  something wasn’t personal, that, say, you were looking out for yourself, all you’re doing is saying you didn’t take the way your actions would affect the now hurt party into consideration. You were thinking about you, not how your decisions and/or actions would affect anyone else. 

“All that means is it wasn’t personal to you. Well, it was personal to me.”

I think a lot of the problems with privilege, and most especially why it's often so hard to get past, stem from how it blinds people from the experiences of others. It makes people less personable, problems less tangible, and (need for) solutions less comprehensible. This last part is a big reason why people do things like vote/speak out against policies that won’t affect them (or would in very minor ways) that would simultaneously be of a great benefit to others. The “why should I care?” method of political preference.

The big example I gave my students when I was teaching Poli Sci courses was education funding. People over the age of 50 are leaps and bounds more likely to support cuts in the education budget. Why? Because they (usually) have no kids in public school. So why should their money go into education? They don’t have anyone in the school system. They fail to consider that  there are hundreds, thousands, etc. of people affected by those cuts in negative ways.***

I can imagine a lot of old timers saying, “Don’t take  it personal, I just would rather see my money go into Suchandsucha Program,” if the parent of a ten-year-old called them on cutting education. Or, better yet, “It’s not personal, it’s politics."

People take  taxes as a personal affront from the government. They think it's personally invasive for Uncle Sam to have his hands on their  wallets. So it's a personal decision to be for or against a particular tax policy. But when programs are cut, people are affected. And those people likely aren't going to feel better knowing "it wasn't personal." And those same people that get personally offended if they have a tax hike are the same ones that would tell someone whining about a program being cut that "it wasn't personal." 

See where I'm going with this?

People use the "it's not personal" line when it (in their eyes) absolves them from guilt. But they would also be the first to call "foul" when something impacts them. It kind of pegs a person as a hypocrite in my eyes. 

And it's an easy lie we tell ourselves to keep real issues in the abstract. To distance ourselves. Maybe it's a way to cope with the harshness and fucked-up-ness of the world. But the very fact that we can say that is something we need to think about. Because it says we have the power and privilege to do so. Not everyone does. And I think we would do well to consider this more often. That what we're doing DOES have an impact. Not everyone has the resources to defend themselves or bounce back. Not everyone has the strength to. 

I guess one big point I want to make here is that saying something isn't "personal" is basically admitting you're being selfish or narcissistic. That what happens to someone else doesn't matter to you, or at least not enough for you to act otherwise. And you're taking agency from someone else in the process by implying they shouldn't feel the way they do. But feelings aren't objective- there's no "should" or "shouldn't" when it comes to feelings. Not really. Feelings just happen, just are. If there really was a "should" to feelings, I wouldn't have been single for so long, wouldn't have been hurt so many times by so many people in so many ways. Because they wouldn't have done it, or it wouldn't have mattered. But they did, it did. Feelings are by definition a personal thing, and if you're generating feelings in someone, it's personal. And no one has the right to dictate someone else's feelings. That's attempting an invasive sort of dominance over a person's very personhood. A lot of things define us as people, but our range of feelings and emotions is, I'd argue (yes, in a way that sounds a lot like a form of speciesism), one of the things that sets us apart as human  beings from the rest of the biological mass. Granted, other species experience emotion, too, but our range is unique.

I'm going summarize an idea from my favorite movie and book, The Last Unicorn. In the story, the Unicorn gets turned into a mortal human being, and the scene where she first realizes it is heartbreaking- she can feel the body dying and rotting, something she has never felt before and feels differently than a person born mortal. In the end, she's turned back into an immortal unicorn and moves on. And she becomes particularly unique and beautiful, even for a unicorn after this experience, not because she regains her immortality, but because of the mortal  traits she carries with her after having been human. Regret and a deeper kind of sorrow and loss than any unicorn ever had and ever will feel. And she's thankful for it, in the end. The contrast between the two feelings, her fear of mortality and then her loss when she's immortal again, send an important message about people. That we are precious, not unicorns. That we are wondrous and should take care of one another. That we experience the world in ways no other creature does or even can.

And so to stop myself before I get too tangential, that range of emotion is something we shouldn't try to repress in ourselves or suppress in others. Telling someone that something we did "wasn't personal" is pushing against their very humanity. And it shouldn't be done.

But all that is just my personal opinion.

*Also, fun fact, its website is still active, in all of its Flashplayer glory. You’re welcome.

**I should come clean and say, however, I'm in a pretty serious relationship with a man  that loves me for my flaws, not in spite of them, so whatever all those other guys didn't see in me, or harped on, he doesn't care, or sees past them, or doesn't even see them as flaws, or however else you want to put it. 

***This isn’t even touching on the fact that those children whose educations they refuse to fund shall likely be taking care of them when they’re back in diapers. 

On Love, Lying, And Sadness

I have a lot of posts in "draft" form, some closer to finished than others, but I kind of want to ramble a little. As I tend to do, I'm going to open with a story.

I was in a pretty great friggin' mood toward the end of my shift at the office supply place I work at recently. Why? Well, I was offered an interview at a place I would love to work and could see myself making a career out of, more so than my clothing store... and certainly more so than the office supply place (oh yeah... I got a second job... in July...). So with less than an hour left, there was a happy bounce to my step and I didn't even care I wasn't going to get my last break. 

Then, and without going into too much detail, a man needed my assistance, and he was invasive to the point of causing physical contact more than once, and where I felt sexually threatened. And unfortunately, I was like a trapped animal and too afraid to call for my manager, so, long story short, I just did everything I could to get him out of there as fast as possible. When he was gone and I could talk freely to the manager, I kind of emotionally vomitted all over him and another worker/friend about it.* And the latter person stuck with me as I started doing my end-of-shift stuff and I told him something I don't tell a lot of people about myself.

I am a liar.

You, right now.

But wait, let me explain. See, the kind of depression I have, it's not bipolar, no, but I have manic episodes, and I can go from very high to exceptionally low in a short timeframe. When I'm in a good mood, I'm loving and caring and tender and funnny and bubbly and all these other sugary adjectives. So people expect that of me, because that's far easier and more pleasant than pouty. It's even preferable to just... neutral or indifferent. I mean, c'mon, I know not everyone would agree, but if you had to see one of these faces regularly, which would it be:

Option 1

Option 2

Mmmhmmmm....

Which means that if I perform any less than that first choice, they start to worry, and if I ever even let a little bit of a truly dark or down mood show... everyone flips their goddamned shit and thinks I'm going to off myself or something ridiculously off the mark.

"Oh, Gab, are you okay? You aren't smiling today!"

"You're not as cheery as you usually are, what's going on?"

"Is there anything I can do for you? You don't seem like yourself today."

Etc. And that kind of annoys me, because  it says there are these expectations people have of me and I can't set a toe out of line. Like rather than being how I feel, I have to be what everybody wants me to be, instead. It's frustrating, and the moment someone says something like that, I do my best to step back in-line, and I also thank them profusely for caring. Which in itself is another act, because while externally, I'm like

Internally, I'm all

So I fake it. All the time. I'm frequently not nearly as chipper internally as I make it seem externally, but I'd rather pretend and have people off my case than actually let it show.

And, weird as it is, I do this out of love. Because while it's annoying to be fussed over, the truth is, I don't like being fussed over (for that, anyway) because I don't want to burden people with worry over me. The moment I start caring about you, that's the moment I try not to ask much, if anything from you, so the last thing I want is to become frustrating or a bummer or whatever. I want people to feel like they're gaining something from knowing me, now losing. And I know how taxing being close to someone with depression is, if nothing else because I know how frustrated with myself I get sometimes. 

What sucks is that I've become very good at lying like this, though. To the point where I even fool myself sometimes. Where I'm not sure what "myself" should even be like anymore. Am I actually chipper, or do I just think I am because I know I'm "supposed" to be?

Then I go to bed, and my back, shoulders, and neck burn and ache and are sore and stiff. And I realize no, I'm faking it. And carrying all of the negative energy in my muscles. Seriously, I have a friend that's a massage therapist, and she said she could see the lumps and tightness, even without taking off any clothing. 

But here's the kicker. The "I Can't Have Nice Things" part of my brain steps back, looks at the situation (hypothetically- not one in particular... you know what I mean!), and goes

Why? Well, see, and those of you familiar with me and/or this  blog prolly see this coming... It's ableism. No, seriously, it is. Because the whole reason people hide being sad is that pressure they get. And that pressure stems from societal norms and expectations on what "proper" behavior looks like. Why  can't people be sad? Because sad isn't "normal." People fake not being depressed because they don't want to be looked down upon, and because we treat people with  mental illness as if they're burdensome. So if course I'm going to be afraid that me being depressed around others is going to cause a burden, I'm trained to think it will because they're trained to treat it as such.

And the twisted thing is, the people getting all helicopter on me/anyone else, they're doing it out of love, too. Because yes, they most likely really, truly are concerned with  the person. But the trouble is in the phrasing. I'll retype the above statements for clarification's sake, but I want you to really analyze them yourself before I spell it out for you:

1) Are you okay? You aren't smiling today.

2)You're not as cheery as you usually are, what's going on?

3) Is there anything I can do for you? You aren't yourself today.

1) Admittedly, the least bad. But the focus is on the lack of smile, pointing out the absence of an expected behavior. And it's that expectation part that makes it ableist. Implicitly, "you aren't smiling like a normal person today." Switch "smiling" with "walking" and it'll make it a lot easier to grasp. 

2) This one is the worst of the three I chose. Here, the big problem is the assumption that it just has to be something specific. This is a real big fuckup that ableism has caused, this false notion that depression or sadness always has to have a specific cause. And as someone with depression, I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to try to explain to someone else that no, nothing in particular happened, I just feel like shit, can we drop it? Usually I don't bother trying and make something up or pick something going on as the catalyst for my sadness at the time, even if it isn't. (Or I just use the timelessly classical line of, "I'm just tired/have a headache.") Because usually if I try to say I dunno, I just feel icky, the other person starts digging and trying to come up with something. "Is it X? Is it Y?" Because we just have to know what causes it. It's very medical. And God, it makes a person feel even worse to be asked something like that if they can't give a precise answer, because again, we don't want to be a burden or let the other person down by not fulfilling yet another expectation (it's bad enough we weren't cheery for them). Of course, sometimes there may indeed be a legit answer to give, but I just hate that people's instinct is pretty much always that there is. 

4) This one's in the middle. Starts out right, but turns, because again, the question pointing to an absence of expected behavior is present. And that's crap. 

But the thing is, the expectations and need to find a "cause," they come from love. At least, I like to think they do. Because people want each other to be happy- we're trained to believe happy is the Best State to Be In. And we're also trained to believe that if we can figure out a cause, we can find a cure (just look at all of the hype over vaccines and autism, even though the original paper that started it all was pulled, the researchers lost their licenses, and one of the authors retracted and apologized). So if being sad is a "disease" or "illness," then we need to make sure people don't "get" it anymore! It's for their own good, right? We want people to be happy, so we push and prod and do what we're led to believe will be helpful.

But ultimately, it's not. At least for some. For people like me, anyway. 

I'd like to see a dystopian satire where being happy is considered an anomaly, while feeling meh is the societal norm. I'd love it, but I fear most people wouldn't get it. Happiness vs. sadness isn't usually associated with ableism, so even people all up in arms over stuff like accessibility and services may not think like I am about it. But here's the thing. If disability itself is porous (which lots of disability scholars themselves say) and you can go from having it to not to back again, I don't see how temporary bouts of sadness shouldn't be considered temporary disability. I mean, yes, there's a difference between clinical depression and being in a crappy mood, but both are looked down upon for the same reasons, reacted to in the same ways, and those societal responses come from hierarchical, socially constructed institutions that dictate how we "should" behave on a regular basis. 

And I don't like that. I don't like that at all. I should have a right to be sad if I want to, and a person that loves me shouldn't automatically assume the worst, nor should they feel like it's their obligation to "fix" the problem. 

Now, do I think we should thus ignore people that are sad? Pretend nothing's going on? No, I'm not saying that, either. I'm just saying we need to be careful how we approach people that "aren't acting like themselves"... and avoid using phrasing like that. Rather than alluding to past behaviors (which means assumptions or expectations), observe current behavior. "You seem a little down, is there anything I can do for you?" Or rather than assuming there is a specific cause, give the person room to say there isn't. "Anything in particular, or is it just a general icky feeling?" I can't anticipate every "wrong" inquiry and every "right" counter, but I'd just encourage you to think carefully about how you talk to someone you think is sad. Because it may not just be "sad," it may be manic, it may be clinical... 

And, honestly,  it's not your business to know. If the person wants you to know, they'll tell you. If you know them well enough, you may be able to figure it out on your own. But if you can't, for whatever reason, don't assume, and don't insist. 


Of course, this can get tricky. I know I sometimes insist I want to be alone when all I want to do is be held. When depression makes us say the opposite of what we want or need, the best case scenario is the person on the other end knows us well enough to see through that. It's difficult, though, because society has trained us all to be such good liars.

We lie  because we don't want to hurt the people we love. And because we're afraid they'll hurt us if we're honest.  We lie because no, sometimes we don't really know what is wrong, we feel like it's us in and of ourselves. And we don't know what we want, we don't know what we need, we just know we're sad and we wish we weren't. But sometimes, we're lucky, and we get someone that loves us enough to know to do this, and that we trust enough to allow it to happen:

That's love. All of it. 

And painful honesty. It's much harder to admit you don't know why you're sad than to make something up or pretend you're not. Honesty is so much more difficult than lying.

And it's joyful, even if sorrowful, too. Because both people know only true love and a bond too tight for words could produce that much trust and loyalty. 

So, what am I getting at, here? I'm not saying I expect blanket forts every time I'm frowning (although dude, that would be kind of awesome...). And I'm not asking anyone to walk on eggshells around me or anyone else they care about. But I guess I just wanted to get things off of my chest, about myself, and about how I think this is a Thing, and not just something I deal with.

And because my neck and back hurt so badly I can't sleep right now. Which says I've been bottling a lot up. And given how much I've cried lately, that's saying something.

And I'm refraining from the disclaimer about all of the positive things I'm happy and grateful about, too, because that's another ableist piece of garbage- I shouldn't have to justify feeling depressed or counter-balance it with a bunch of happy stuff. We don't go around saying a bunch of bad stuff to counter the effects of being in a good mood, it's crap that we feel the need to counter bad ones. I do have stuff to be happy about, and I'm legit thinking of it right now. I'm just sad and can't get out of it and am rambling. And tired, so tired, in every way. 

*This incident of sexual harassment isn't the focus of the post, so please don't freak out. I'm fine now, and my manager and I figured out what to do if he comes back.