I don’t want to be a girl. Not today. I’m actually thinking of taking a holiday from being female. It just makes sense.
Being female is just way too much work. It involves too much emotion. And the feelings! So many feelings. Feelings everywhere. Just like snails and slugs after a heavy rain.
Now here’s the thing–emotion’s fine. It connects people, makes them feel all warm and fuzzy inside (unless its the kind of emotion that makes you want to hurt people but that’s another story) but it takes so much out of women. Emotion ties us all up, makes us feel all crazy and needy and ridiculous and I think it’s time to play boy.
Boy means I can throw things at cars, into the streets, against peoples’ houses. Boy means I can sigh heavily when females talk. Boy means I don’t have to listen because I already know the answer and girls use too many words anyway. Boy means I don’t have to say sorry but just grunt something and move on. (Apologies are so over-rated in the boy world). Boy means I can act like I’m the expert even if I’m only just reading the training manual.
No, I don’t hate boys. Or men. I actually envy the way their brains compartmentalize. I envy their ability to detach. I envy their focus on the here and now.
I’d like some of that focus right now, please, as well as a huge heap of detachment.
I’m ready for a twenty-four hour holiday from me.