A big question, followed by a big silence

 Today I turn 44, which sounds unreal. I had a party at home last Friday night, and I must say I really felt loved and surrounded by friends. I know, most of these relationships stem from work, but the fact that people who stopped working with me years ago are still friends I see and talk to often and that they show they still care is somehow reassuring.

(my mother in my young years and then my husband always told me I have no friends and I never managed not to be hurt from their assessment).

The party went on from 7PM to midnight when I basically told the last few people it was time for them to go home, considering the amount of alcohol consumed :-)

Sunday I suggested that maybe husband and I could spend an extra half an hour in bed for some fun and was clearly met with a "no it's late I have to go to the gym and then I want to work a bit before lunch". ooooookay.

The rest of the weekend was spent tiding up, going to the gym, having lunch outside and working a bit - and talking to Maria who at least is going through phases now, sometimes she's obsessive and crying but sometimes seems to be more tranquil - and this is a big improvement from crying 24/7. I suspect I will probably have to talk to her every day at least until mid August when she gets to Italy but it's ok as long as she's making some progress. I wish I could convince her to seek professional help but she flatly refuses.

Mischief is.... I don't even know what to say. I ended texting my question and well, a big question was met by a big silence I would say. Well, that's not even true, I explained about the SF thing which blew up and something crazy that happened with a client and  wrote:

Me: "question is: if I happen to be in the US this summer/autumn, do you want to see me?"

Mischief: "That's crazy stuff. Yes call you Friday"

Then he disappeared, texted some random stuff yesterday and disappeared again.

Honestly I don't know. There are moments when I think I shall just tell him hey, let's meet in NY in a couple of weeks (he'll be there) and moments when I think "what the hell Lucy? the guy does not want you". The first kind of moments usually happen when I'm high from vaping.

I hate it when I cannot read a situation but I'm not sure if I cannot read it, or to quote my brother, if he's just not that into me. May be I just do not want to acknowledge the latter, but on one thing I trust my gut: I have never felt so alive in the past 20 years as I have with him, and I feel the same is true for him.

Weight: still stuck at 64kg (141lbs) BMI 22.1. But after the drinking, the pizza, the meat of the weekend, I consider it a success. Now I have two weeks ahead of restriction.

On a different note, I want to fully enjoy this summer. I want to travel a bit, to spend more time outdoor, to get as tan as possible (I am a huge user of SFP 50 don't worry). My friends from university were organizing to meet in Helsinki and I immediately said yes (then plans got postponed to next summer because the one who lives farther away (Bangkok) broke his feet but my point is until last year I would have said "sounds lovely but no thanks". Now that I feel good again, I want to live.

Song for this post: "Spending my time" Roxette

First day of summer

 Happy Memorial day to US readers!

 

Weight update:

I started this year at 75kg (165lbs, BMI: 26). Am currently at 66kg (145lbs, BMI: 22.8).

It would have been a 65 had I not been in Madrid last week (lus last Saturday - more below; however, Madrid was good. It was a meeting of the western Europe leadership for work, and everybody commented on how great I looked. At almost 44, this is still a trigger and I'm afraid I will not get better - I enjoy compliments.

 

 Tomorrow I am seeing the dietician - I was supposed to reach  65, but again, with three weeks of work-related travel, I feel it's still okay, but I'm keen to see if he will change the diet or not. I kind of hope not as I'm genuinely enjoying what I'm eating, but we'll see.

 

I have two goals that are so different from each other it's almost laughable. First one (I'm almost there): no chafing tights when I walk. I've been wearing shorts under dresses for so many years…. I think if I drop a couple more kg I will get there.

Second goal: I'd really like to get a 6pack again. I know, this is pure vanity but… I even have a few pcs from AFTER I got married where I sported a 6 pack. But I think I need to be max 55-56kg for this and it's a long way from where I am now so we'll see. I probably need an intermediate goal (first number to be a 5 - at 59kg I would be 130lbs or BMI 20.4).

 

I wrote that I'm fighting for my marriage to work - and I am. For the weekend I organized something: my team had gifted me a wine experience at Masi, a fine producer of Amarone in the North East of Italy, that involved a guided tour, wine tasting (5 wines) and lunch - so I booked and we went. I convinced husband to take the roof off the car (we have a small convertible) and it really was the first day of summer, we enjoyed the escapade a lot. Of course it was a disaster diet-wise, but at least I skipped dinner. There was also some sex on Sunday (but guess who got things started?).

 

Mischief called me on Friday night as he was heading to a show at the Sphere in Vegas and spent one hour on the phone. Half of it was in relation to some investment he wants to make and he asked if I could help him with this, which I'm happy to do. No he's not exploiting me - and he has helped me with getting insights and collabs with other West Coast people in our organization, which is not a given at all trust me.

 

A couple of pictures: first one was taken over our wine experience, and second in Madrid by a silly colleague

In memory of Sinead O'Connor

 I haven't been posting for a while, and I thought I'd do this one in memory of Sinéad O'Connor, recently passed. 

Sinéad, you lived a strange life, and certainly your mental health was not the greatest. I grew up with Nothing Compares 2 U, and although I was a nerd about music as a teenager, I couldn't name another song of yours if my life depended on it. And this makes me think of how hard it must be to live a life where any stranger you meet thinks they know you as they identify you with a 3 minutes song (written by Prince btw if I remember correctly). It must be very insane - it must be difficult even for a writer who wrote one successful book, but no writer has ever had the reach of that song in the Western world I think.

You probably hated that song, didn't you?

As I age, I'm more and more content that I have not had One moment in time that defined my success. It is so much better to have enjoyed many lesser moments, to have built a number of memories on your own and with your loved ones. Also if you had on trait that was so strong and defined you and then you lose it as you age, it must be super hard. Think about how Whitney Huston had lost her voice in her last years? or super beautiful model who inevitably get older?

That's why I love work. Because work is, after all, one of the thing I've been successful in. It will eventually decline, but by that time I'll be fed up and ready to retire and move on.

Anyhow - all is good here, or at least decent. Husband went out and got shitfaced one night when I was in the UK for work, got all bruised in the face and got a dislodged jaw and hurt a knee, but let's face it, nothing really new there. 

The cat is always adorable and we love it to pieces.

We fared reasonably well through Tuesday storm, meaning that half of my green no longer exists, we'll probably have to replace the furniture on the balcony and I spent a day cleaning up, but considering the incredible ice storm we had, we were very lucky.

Enjoy the last stretch of summer dear readers.

Random things from vacation

 For the first time in the last 5 years or so, we managed to spend amazing vacation without work bothering us. And we had such a great time!

We spent three days in Bourgogne, visiting around some historical sites (Cluny and Beaune mostly) and relaxing by the pool and drinking fabulous wine. I had booked a room in this place, which turned out to be awesome

Then we went to Amorgos, my dream island. Although it's quite different in August with the summer crowd, it was still awesome and lovely. One day a local fisherman took us to a uninhabited small island and we managed to spend the day alone and naked at a beach, laying in sun, snorkeling and reading. What an amazing time!

We're back at work, but honestly we both feel so.. recharged if that makes sense!

Finally, Husband went on all summer saying that he really really wants a cat, so we're going to go and chose it on Saturday and then it will come home with us at the end of September once it's old enough. We're picking one from a litter of Siberians, they's mostly white although some have a grayish tail. I'm so excited about this!

Amorgos

 "Can we go to Amorgos for a week?"

I am ashamed to say that I've probably asked this question at least once a week over the past two years and a half.

"When would you want to go?" - wait - this is an opening. I think about an answer that would make sense, something that is actually doable.

"Last week of August - the crowds will have left by then, and days are not too short yet"

"Fine, let's do it"

Before her can change his mind I grab my ipad and within 5 minutes I have booked the flight to Mykonos, the fast boat that luck has placed at the perfect time from Mykonos to Amorgos, and the small place they were still building last time we've been there, a small house right on a small cliff by the sea that has private stone steps leading down to the water and a patio right above.

The place I dream to own, the island where I dream to get old and spend the rest of my life.

Amorgos, the dream of The big blue (but I'm sorry lovelies, English is not enough to render Le Grand Bleu, and even if you had seen the French cult movie, you would have seen the silly American version which was changed from the original as the French one lacked a happy ending, and was stripped of half of the poetry in the process).

Amorgos, where the blue is so deep that the sky seems dark. The island that Homer already deemed dry, I've never been so late in the summer: will there be any green left, any water trickling in the valleys? The golden steps of Panagia Hozoviotissa will be there for sure, unchanged.

Will I be able to come back?

Wake up call

 This was an accident,

not the kind where sirens sound

never even noticed

we're suddenly crumbling

(show me love, t.A.T.u.)

While we were planning a summer roadtrip that involves visiting some top French wine caves in the Burgundy region, chateaux, middle age towns, kayaking down the Ardèche canyon and relaxing by Lake Annecy, driving around lazily, and then...

Husband suddenly proposed to do a week of diet retreat. He actually sent me the link of a sick place where instead of giving you food they give you an IV with fluids and nutrients. (for the modest price of fucking 5k Euros per person, per week).

Besides the obvious fact that I'd rather shut myself in at home without food for a week rather than flushing money down the toilet like this, the simple think he is considering this kind of plan triggers some huge warnings.

I need to lose weight ASAP. Let' face it - my parents can barely look me in the eyes and are basically ashamed of being around with me. Husband enquires about sick places that are meant for old rich fat people that wannabe anorexic. Do I need any more suggestions?

When T.A.T.U. were famous, no one ever focused much on Lena Katina, even though she was the real voice of the duo. She was probably a normal weight, but she was the fat one of the duo and eye were all over skinny Julia Volkova, the hot skinny bitch.

Surprise!

 Last Thursday evening, there was the leaving party of one of my work lieutenants, and as you can imagine I drank a bit too much - not awfully so, but wine was not top quality and thanks to my allergies I woke up in the morning to find some bumps on my face (that luckily disappeared well before noon).

On Friday evening, there was Husband's work summer party. I almost bailed, as I was really tired, but then, it was really close to my office so at 7h30PM I signed off and decided to stop by to say hi to a few friends. And luckily I did...

... because it was actually a surprise birthday party for me!

(yes, truly yours is turning 40 this week)

I always wanted a surprise birthday party.. and never had one before! Husband pulled together a surprising number of people (supported by Matt, my work best friend) and I was truly moved by the fact that some actually drove from far to attend, especially on a very warm Friday night.

In short.. it was awesome, and I really felt loved!

Coming soon on "Waiting for the Miracle": my 16yo nephew temporarily moved in with us as today he's starting his summer internship!

tired

 Things are mostly okayish.

I'm working so hard I don't really have time to feel tired. I almost freaked out during the 3 days in Corfù with Mom - she has become so high maintenance... and sometimes I cannot stand her way of being tight with money. I'm not a big money waster frankly, but I do not see the point in saving 50 Euros if it means taking a bus with no AC that will take 2 hours (plus one extra waiting hours) when I can afford an Uber that will make me save 2 hours and a half. Time has become precious.

These days, I'm usually waking up around 5h30 in the morning (though my alarm is set at 6). I manage emails received overnight, water all the plants (I really have many, and since weather is so warm where I live, this takes some time), tidy up a bit the house and by 6 I'm back in bed with breakfast for myself and Husband. 30 minutes and we get up, we get ready and by 6.50 I'm in the gym. by 7h40 I'm back but I cannot seem to manage showering, untangling my hair and getting ready in less than 40 minutes (Lord knows I tried). This mean I'm not at work before 8h45, and then.... it's work until 8h30 PM these days, run home, eat a bite, manage some more work emails and go to bed.

It would be okay honestly, except that I'm spending also 5 to 10 hours working in weekends. Weekends are spent working, at the gym, sleeping, cleaning the hamster tank and fixing food, eating and drinking.

Luckily, busy season will relent in a month or so.

Weight wise, I usually lose 2.5kg from Monday morning to Friday morning (c.5.5lbs) and gain back most of it over the weekend

Something broken

 When I saw my husband name on the phone screen at 2AM, my heart sank. I was in Barcelona for a corporate event, and had wisely left the team at the disco at 1h30 in the morning to get back to the hotel and get some sleep.

I picked up and all my fears were confirmed. He was high, did not know where he was and tried to articulate "can you come and pick me up?". Clearly, I could not, and he had absolutely no clue of his whereabouts.

One hour of meditation later I managed to fall asleep. I told myself he was going to make it home like many other times. I tried very hard not to think about the time he made it home with a broken arm, an injured feet, broken glasses, a black eye and a huge cut on his hand. At least now he no longer wear glasses. Needless to say, it was not a restful night.

I made it home on the next evening, and found him with a huge violet mark on half of his face a two twisted fingers.

The last time something of the kind happened was this, and the worst time (mentioned above, when he broke his arm etc etc) never made it to this blog as I've tried very hard to erase it from my mind. And that does not include the time the police wanted to talk to him as they were arresting a dealer and wanted to know how much and how many times and what exactly he had purchased. And the time I was in New York (for work) and his friends had to bring him back to his parents place as he was shit faced and had lost the keys to go home. And the time he spent one year without a driving license for DUI (although admittedly he stopped driving if he's drunk anything, even one glass of beer, and that happened before we got together).

The point is, I have a hard time making him stop when I'm with him when he's past his limit, but when I'm away there is no way of knowing the amount of trouble he'll get in. And frankly, this is not fair on me.

I do not really know what to do, but I can't take this shit any longer. And clearly, the idea of having a baby has gone down the drain. I've been in so much pain (back, knee and mouth hurt like hell whenever I have periods), that at this point I'm taking an appointment asap to have a brand new Nexplanon  inserted in my arm. He has not fed the hamster in 3 days I was away, how could he be responsible for a baby? (The hamster is fine - I had left it dried food and water enough - but it does not really like dried food and prefers to have fruits, or salad, cheese etc).

I knew I married an alcoholic, I knew it back then. What really worries me is that I do still love him, but something has broken this time and I do not think it can be fixed.

I hate the way you lie

 Two things I'm so tired of.

Watching Husband that keeps smoking and smoking and the daily drinking. Even worse, knowing how, each time I'm not there, he'll completely drop limits and get wasted.

(by the way, who the hell still smokes in 2022???)

The times he start mansplaining things or even worse tells me I know shit and dismisses what I'm talking about.

This morning I'm so pissed off I may even restrict eating for a while.

But you'll always be my hero, even thought you've lost your mind (...)

..in this tug of war you'll always win, even when I'm right

I miss Eminem

Once upon a time

 Aunt Piera made it so far, and was sent home last weekend. I spent the last two weekends at my parents' place, as Mom (the Panther) really needed some rest and someone to step up on her behalf.

I was VERY happy to see Aunt back, although I must admit she is so much more fragile (I know it sounds absurd as you will tell me the woman was 94 even before her heart attack, but trust me - she was not fragile). It's not just a psychological matter: she cannot hurry or make efforts as she gets angina if she does. On Saturday night, after she spent the day at my parents' place (she had had her third covid shot in the morning) I was walking her to the car as she wanted me to drive her home, and she missed a step. I was kinda expecting this, as my Grandma (her sister) always misses the same step, so I was holding her and she did not fall at all, but she got a bit scared and she immediately had a bit of angina.

Meanwhile Grandmother is less and less lucid and aware - most of the time it's like she'd rather be left alone than having someone talking with her. While I try and understand this, it is very hard for her sister (Aunt P) and her daughter (my Mom).

On Sunday morning Aunt P came over for lunch, and we talked a bit just the two of us, about how much she still misses her husband (who passed 30 years ago), and how they always cared for each other. They started dating when she was 15 and he was 16, and not one year later he went rogue as his older brothers were called to war and they all ran away, so they all spent 2 years in the mountains as partisans. They were not driven by high ideologies, politics, or anything really, except for one strong drive: staying alive. --he would write postcards to his young fiancée, and sometimes she would hike up the mountain to bring him a basket of food.

Later on, while I was driving back to the city, I thought about how skinny and unhappy I was in all those years back from when B left me, until I started dating Husband. How I felt alone, lonely, and how I had gotten used to being sad and hurting.

And yet, Husband deserves more - he started dating a skinny girl, married a normal one, and now has a fat wife.

And I deserve more.

So it's probably time I do something about this - after all, I'll never go back to running again, so it's time to restrict.

Summer day

The day ahead is a difficult one and I wake up grumpy. The monster's running wild inside of me, insecure and tired.

I have lunch with all the other equity partners in my group. Most of them had known the 22 years old me. I want them to know that I am the same person - I may be 45 pounds heavier, but I'm still me.

The simple fact I want them to understand this tells me how insecure I am.

I end up opting for a long white strapless dress that is completely okay for drinks on the beach and that is quite out of place in an office. Ironically, this cheers me up just a tiny bit because I will manage to achieve what I want: it doesn't matter that we have aged, I'm still the same person. And if you continue to judge me because I'm not wearing a bra, fine.

I walk towards the office in my flowing dress and sandals, and while I cross the park the sun is right in my face. I squint and look at two bunnies I must have scared, as they sprint away in the grass. I squint some more and the tall man jogging in my direction is my husband. The light is so blinding I squint some more as he approaches.

He stops to quickly drop a kiss on my lips, he's sweated and barely touches me, but I'm in plain sun and his smile when he looks at me tells me everything I need to know.

I resume my walk towards the office, conscious that I'll try to keep cherishing this moment through the day and to hold on to it through the difficult hours ahead.

Grieving, again

 In the last week of the year, my mother in law died.

She had an ictus an than extensive brain bleding. The country being in the situation it is, hospitals are full, and they did not admit her past ER. To be fair, she lived 15 minutes drive from a major hospital, and it took 5 hours and a half for an ambulance to come, pick her up and bring her to ER. You cannot drive yourself to ER or a family member these days, due to covid19.

By the time she was checked into ER, her brain was gone, she was in a deep coma. The doctors called my sister in law and explained she had 1 or two days left and that another ambulance would drive her back home, since they did not have free beds and she was terminal.

At least my husband, one of his brothers and his sister were with her at the end (the other 2 brothers had  unfortunately left to grab a bite some 10 minutes earlier). It was good for them I think, but really, it made me understand that it's so true when they say everyone dies alone. She was not conscious.

After all, the main measure taken by our government after months of debate on the pandemic, was spending 3 billions euros to equip schools with desks with wheels to ensure social distancing (and schools were only opened for three weeks in September, then they closed again).

Being the stubborn person I am, of course I always liked my mother in law and had a very good relationship with her. My husband is not the kind to express feelings, but I can see he's really in pain.

Since the family is strongly catholic, they had the open coffin in the house for 4 days, with people coming in from 7AM to 9PM. It was exhausting. Most people would start praying as soon as they step in, reciting what we call a Rosary (roughly, it's 50 Hail Marys, 5 PAter Nosters and a bunch of other prayers).

By the day of the funeral everyone was a train wreck - her priest son celebrated a beautiful functions, that made everyone cry (I really admire how good he was with words and memories, all without faltering - well not faltering too much). These poor guys have lost both their parents in 2020, and there's really not much anyone can do.

Finally yesterday, after the funeral, we decided to go back to our place in Milan (we won't be able to move in the new flat before the end of April).

On other news, I was late with periods for a while around Christmas, but then our hopes were crushed. Also, it seems they are putting me in the equity partners admittance process again, with a 50% chances of success. Frankly speaking, we came to a point where I'd rather not be made equity partner, but I'll develop more in the next post.

And the sad truth of how much more weight I have gained in these weeks of overeating and staying at home finally hit me very hard this morning.

This really need to go back to a weight loss blog.

Song of the day:

Snow can wait, I forgot my mittens,

Whipe my nose, get my new boots on.

I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter

I put my hands in my fathers gloves

(...)

I hear a voice: You must learn to stand up

for yourself, 'cause I can't always be around

When you're gonna make up your mind?

When you're gonna love you as much as I do?

When you're gonna make up your mind?

These things are gonna change so fast

All the white horses are still in bed

I tell you that I'll always want you near

You say that things change

My dear, never change

I like Tori Amos, but I love Dream Theater cover for this one.

Crystal palace

 I've signed to buy a flat in the posh district I was looking at. I found a larger flat, had a long persuasion session with Husband, brought him over to see the flat for himself, and it's done.

Now, I'll just have to work like a slave for the next 20 years to pay the mortgage, but hey, I'm going to live in the coolest place in Milan (which, if you'll forgive me, is the fucking coolest city in the world, no offense).

I think the fact that I've been quarantined last week following lunch with my friend Theo who was afterwards tested negative, helped me in the decision to hand out all my savings. I was tested negative last Friday, but spending 8 days in my 40 square meters was quite challenging.

On other news, offices are not closed here but basically no one is going and there is no way I'm taking the tube. I think, since I have scheduled appointments with my physical therapist on Tuesday and Thursday mornings (and it's next door to the office), I'll be working those day in the office, Wednesday at my place and we'll probably be spending more time by the lake, from now until year end.

And hopefully I'll manage to move by February at latest.

Testing time

 Husband phone pings as we're already in bed and I immediately snap "please turn on night mode". I'm nasty, but on my defense he always manages to make noises with his devices, with plastic bottles of water or with ANYTHING at night while I struggle to sleep.

He reads the message, inhales and hands me his phone.

It's a colleague of his, whose asshole teenage son spent August snogging around with whatever had 2 legs in Sardinia and is now Covid positive.

Husband office gets shut down immediately, while waiting that the asshole teenager's dad gets tested and then waiting for the results.

And of course this happens when my parents are leaving for their annual week of vacation in 3 days, and I'm supposed to spend next week with my grandmother (who is turning 97 year old in November) since my mom is away.

Fuck.

So, after a complex research (average waiting time to get myself and Husband tested in Milan is now 8 days...) I managed to book a slot for tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, fingers crossed. We are both perfectly fine, as his colleague is, but many people are now positive and feeling well - I can't risk my grandma's health.

Of hamsters and men

Now nonsense isn't new to me

the movies had that movie thing

But mischief knocked me in the knees

said: Just let go, just let go

(REM - Monty got a raw deal)

I'm pretty sure the Robo hamster female ("Meatball") is pregnant.

I, on the other side, seem to have all pregnancy related issues, but for the real thing.

Morning sickness? check

Head spinning? check

Fat? check

Back ache? check

Low energy? check

Weird dreams? check.

IT is quite impossible here to have a rescue place for small creatures like hamsters - we have lot for dogs and cats but I'm afraid Meatball and babies would not fit in well..

I'll probably be able to have a pet shop take them at the end of August, but not before. Husband is NOT happy about this...

Meanwhile, thing continue to be a bit awful. I work and work and work and am submerged by anxiety.

At this point, I am aware that any decision taken now would not be rationale.

What I really hope is to manage to take 10 days truly off in August and to regain sufficient mental balance to think about next steps. Or get pregnant, which would simply allow me to sit down, work a reasonable amount with possibly no bonus, and postpone any decision by 18 months.

Just to add a bit more stress, husband suddenly wants to quit his job. And leave me to be the breadwinner? awesome. Ok this is badly unfair from me, I just wanted to vent.

just want to go out

The older you get, the more you value walking. At almost 38, I already considered that the best part of my weekdays was when I managed to walk home from work instead of taking the tube. I live 3.5km from work (a bit over 2 miles) and whenever it wasn't too late and it wasn't pouring rain, I used to walk home, sometimes making calls to clients or my mother, sometimes just listening to audible and watching shops windows.

I seems like I'm talking about a long time ago, but we've been working from home since February 22, and in a total lockdown since March 7. Yesterday I decided to go for a walk in the woods (my parents' place is really next to wild woods by the lake) and in order to do that I had to wait over one hour: as soon as I saw a police car patrolling, I waited for it to be gone and crossed the road to get to the footpath in the woods.

That because if they stop me outside home, I can get arrested.

I so miss walking.

My father in law died on Wednesday morning. He had 4 sons and a daughter, all loving him and living close to him, and he had to die alone because we are not allowed to leave home (let alone visit sick relatives in the hospital). He was buried this morning with no funeral (not allowed) and no family (again, not allowed). On of my brother in laws is a priest, so he's celebrating a private mass via skype for the family tonight.

This gives you an idea of the situation I guess.

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.

new company in bed

So he doesn't have lung cancer.
at least that's good.

Working from Central Italy these days, nights spent at a lovely resort in the hills, total silence, sometimes a lovely, grey, slightly fat cat comes in to sleep with me. Adorable.
admittedly, I'd rather have hot nights rolling in bed with a big guy, but hey, one must be content with what whatever small joy life gives you right?