As many of you who read my blog know, my job is coming to an end. As sad as that was a month ago, it’s to the point now where I’m pretty much begging them to let me go. I guess it helps that I have another job lined up that will let me start anytime now. I have my fingers crossed that next week I will be able to say goodbye to current job and hello to shiny new job that I’m really excited about.
As of last Tuesday, I handed over my responsibilities to someone in Michigan and spent this week doing something I know you’ll all be jealous of – boxing up files. It was pretty labor intensive and I spent both Monday and Tuesday after work cuddled on the couch bitching about the myriad aches and pains that come from not just putting files in boxes, but lifting said boxes from one location to another and that sort of thing. I’ll bet you’re all really jealous. I know I would be!
I was talking to a female coworker about it in the break room on Tuesday, thinking I was going to garner some kudos or sympathy or something. What I got instead started me thinking; and when I say thinking, I mean it really made me see red. She asked me why I didn’t ask the IT guy for help. I was still thinking about a response to her comment went she continued by saying that she would have asked him to do it, in what I’m calling a better than thou voice, like she was too good to lift a few boxes or something.
I’ve never been one to ask a guy to lift something for me simply because he’s a guy. What is it about physical labor that some women turn their prissy noses in the air at and run for the nearest man to help them? It drives me nuts. I’m perfectly capable of lifting a few boxes, just like most every other female out there, unless of course you have some condition that limits you in some way. But here’s the thing… men aren’t any more capable of lifting said boxes, and it’s not like it won’t make them sore or hurt their back. It will. Not only that, what if he had other things to do? Do I really just sit around and do nothing waiting for him to find the time to help me? Seriously!
And it’s not just women. Men do it too. They see me carrying boxes and they immediately jump in to help, which is nice, but is it really necessary? Am I sore? Yes. Do I have bruises? Yes. Do I have cuts and scrapes all over my hands? You betcha. But a man isn’t immune to such things simply because he’s a man.
And just in case you’re thinking I’m one of those women who gets pissed when a guy opens a door for me, I’m not. I like it when someone is nice enough to hold open a door for me or help me out when they can see I’m struggling. What I don’t like is turning my nose up at work I am completely capable of doing simply because there’s a man around.
It’s been a tiring week, to say the least, but I’m sitting here on a lovely day off in the middle of the week smelling coffee that I can’t wait to start sipping.
This post is part of Just Jot It January hosted by Linda G Hill. Thanks for tuning in and if you want to join, feel free to click on the link and start jotting!