And suddenly, nothing really matters

And then the Coronavirus came, and the rest no longer matters.

I'm happy and grateful I had planned to spend the weekend at my Parents' place, by the lake, in first place. Then on Friday, when the count of the sick started to rise, I secretly packed both our laptops, chargers, and a few extra changes of clothes.

Luckily, because then everyone panicked and they shut down all offices. On one side we are stranded at the lake, offices closed until further communications, everyone working from home. Which would be a nightmare from our flat in the city - it's too small for the two of us to spend the dy making calls and writing reports at the same time.

The downside is that we'll probably become seriously fat staying here with my family. Don't misunderstand me: I'm honestly grateful that, at such time, I can be with all the most important people I have and they are all in good health (ok Husband so and so, but hopefully it's not THAT).
But we will get fat. Bollocks.

How could I fuck up so badly?

I, once again, am not going to make it to equity partner this year. Nor ever.

My boss very kindly (sarcasm dripping) explained that next year it'll be me for sure, but this year they're already making a female equity partner in Spain (we are grouped with Spain and Portugal), so they're keeping me to fill the female quota next year. Also, they're making equity partner a kid whose father is in Government, so that is very important.

Finally, I shall not despair because if the firm at global level forces us to make a female partner it will be me.

I kid you not, this is what he told me.

Incidentally, he told me something on the same lines last year. I am NOT waiting for another year working like this. What's left of my humanity would be destroyed. And between you and I, I don't think I'll grow a penis in one year and thus be allowed to join the fucking boys club.

And I'm so silly, I, at least, expected my husband to understand the kind of grief I'm going through.

Instead, being a man, he simply said it doesn't matter, that I can do something else, become a mom and so on.

He made it, but somehow he can't understand how much more I have had to endure (and how longer - I've been doing this for 15 years).

He doesn't understand how it feels to remember all the pride I've had to swallow. All the times I've been judged - too aggressive, not enough aggressive. Too sexy, not sexy enough. Gained weight - means she can't manage the pressure. The time a partner told a client and of my team in front of me that I was perfect when I was sitting, since my head was at the same height as his dick.

So long, so much, for what? Nothing.

The urge to stop eating and indulge in self harming had not been this strong since I was 23. But then again, I was already doing this job back then.

Something unexpected

I did something that may or may not be unexpected for you, but that was unexpected for me and for my family.
I went to the doctor and had my Nexplanon (ie birth control implant ) removed last Friday.

Only my husband (of course, he was involved in the decision) and my mom know this. I'm 37 and I'm not at all sure I will get pregnant, but we figured we'll give it a try.

It is scary, and in addition, I haven't had periods for 8 years and I'm not looking forward to that part, but hey. It's now or never.
If it happens, good. If it doesn't, we'll be okay.

Now, I need to lose weight. It will take a few weeks before anything can happen, and I shall take advantage now. So, diet, vitamins, etc etc.

I'm scared as fuck.


(and in the darkened underpass, I thought oh God, my chance has come at last,
but then a strage fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask)
I was listening to The Smiths a few weeks ago and I realized I couldn't just let this fear stop me

There is a light and it never goes out, there is a light and it never goes out