Diary

Today’s German Angst

There are days when I have difficulty expressing myself in anything other than the basic German I’m currently learning.

Ich bin müde. Ich hasse meine Beruf. Ich will nur meine Bücher schreiben.

Somedays I sit at my desk and stare at my inbox. Occasionally, the emails pile up like cinder blocks around me; other times it’s empty and lifeless. But there are always fires to stamp out; Kanban boards to organize, and meetings to attend. Oh christ the meetings. They don’t fucking end. Listen in and take minutes. Reschedule with two more people. Give this presentation to twenty people; half of which that don’t show and of those that do, half of those don’t care. Be cheerful, answer questions, don’t say I don’t know because you should be well-versed in this bullshit by now. Don’t forget to lean in because of feminism.

I don’t want to lean in. I never did. It’s just something I fell into until I could do something I wanted. Maybe one day that’ll happen.

Author & Bi-Feminist-Killjoy. Occasionally has something interesting to say. The importance is debatable. Your mileage may vary. Books: "Icarus" and "A Bitter Spring"