Some self-examination

So ... if Gloria Steinem had been reading my blog, and reading how I let that guy at the garage chastise me, she would have slapped my silly face, figuratively speaking.

Most of her talk was about, of course, sexism. And racism. And how the two have to be uprooted together.

I don't know what combination of motives led that man to think he could talk to me like that, or what made that girl-editor think so as well, but (aside from snoozing on the couch since about 5 p.m.) I've been giving it some hard thought.

In addition to inspiring me with her strength and her compassion, Steinem also laid me open to scrutiny - of myself, by myself. I would guess I'm a person who lashes out with written words rather than those spoken.

But I'm not entirely sure that's fair play.

I suddenly recall once being angry at this man I was seeing and writing a short story of a fictional nature about what made me so angry. He was the main character in this work. I handed it to him, he took it away with him - and never spoke to me again, except as he needed to since his Lotus was parked in my garage.

For all those years I didn't write, I had anxiety attacks and was approaching high blood pressure. One needs to keep healthy, doesn't one?