It’s interesting that my session with E yesterday afternoon was all about my relationship with men. I told her how on my company trip, which takes place every Martin Luther King holiday, I get so excited to see all my colleagues and their spouses.
There’s no doubt I love being a woman and women – hence G and I having such a blast together – but it’s the men’s company I bask in equally as much – I, alone, went and sat near the volley ball game to watch them, shirts off, behave like men. When one of them asked me to round up some hot chicks and patted me on the back saying “you’re so great” – I felt like a sister. When I was hugging one of my closest buddy’s wife goodbye, he stood in back and mouthed, “I’ll miss you.” And I almost welped up. He’s one of my work husbands – thick as thieves we are sometimes.
Loving these men like I do, I wondered what about me being a chick? – how come they don’t treat me like one? After all, K told me this morning I throw off a lot of sexual energy – maybe it’s the pent up energy he is picking up on (his, not mine) – a colleague said I intimidate men – well with my work menz sexual energy isn’t part of the attraction (nor should it be) even though they are almost all hot, smoking hot.
My other work husband sends this to me this morning:
Haiku for RED
Where is my research?
I need it right now, you bitch
Bears will slaughter Saints