Well, that’s the end of a slightly too busy week and it’s Friday night at last. I just hope Monday morning doesn’t pounce like an elephant assassin made of bricks… 😉
As I wheeled in the, uh, wheelie bin this morning, the recycling team had kindly provided a wee calendar* listing the collections in 2022. Wait… 2022? That seems to have snuck up on me. I think the lockdowns and the home working have thrown my sense of time a little.
( * Not in the way the Orange Blowhard would look forward to 😋 )
If the Ever Lovely Mrs J was here, she’d probably say something about my excessive working. I think she’s right and my plan this week to put in more breaks, was knocked for six following a security issue at work. Ho hum.
That time of year again…
These last few days gone it’s been Transgender Awareness Week. I may be flippant but I’m aware of being trans most of the time. 🙄 However, maybe it’s a time to do what you can to help the rights we have…. and indeed the rights we don’t (yet).
I think such Awareness activities can be tough when you’re not completely out of the closet. So, on the vibe that you can only do your best with where you are, I spoke at work about the importance of gender neutral loos and how issues around periods and/or the menopause can affect male colleagues. I remember a transman at the group sharing his story around the lack of sanitary disposal boxes in the gents. As a bloke, where do you leave a medical dressing or change your kid’s nappy, you’ll be aware of that lack. As another friend said, a rising tide lifts all boats.
If I had one ask of you, if you’re trans, please take a moment this weekend, or indeed whenever you can, to stop for a minute and be grateful for your life and possibly, how you might improve it for others like you. ❤️
There’s now two more meetings for Chams before the Xmas break: one next week, we need to get our act together on who’s bringing what, to the Xmas Do in early December.
I’m starting to get emails about party outfits, but in honesty, I’m wondering if I have enough separates or dresses I could rewear and still feel fab. A sort of make do and match, if you will, rather than – or so I hope – purchasing something I don’t need and fuelling the Fast Fashion monster. Ah, it ain’t easy trying to be green.