des femmes

des femmes, defamed...

This post is not about you

It's kind of hard to have a discussion with someone who pops in for a few minutes and then takes off for weeks at a time, isn't it? No tone of levity is intended; read frustration and embarrassment instead.

(But I am reducing my backlog of newspapers. I've got to June 28 already.)

I could abandon this blog and go over to Feminist Rage and rant when my wrath overflows, but my territory is *here*. (If I were a cat, I'd be rubbing my head all over this page.) And in my own spot I don't have to try to adjust my thinking to fit in with the norm, assuming it were possible.

Sort of related story: I used to work at a federal equipment repair installation. Every fiscal year we'd have a work slowdown; we'd have widgets to repair, but we couldn't work on them till the funding came through. The old-timers were used to it, and they'd milk whatever work orders were open, sitting around a table in the clean room talking pretty much all day. Fool me, I was new there, bored to death with nothing to do but read a tech manual over and over, and I asked the supervisor when we were going to get some work in. He found some; he had us scraping and sanding the shipping barrels for the equipment.

Looks like I haven't learned my lesson yet.

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