A bad day!

The self discovery path is not all enlightened moments, clarity and overwhelming inner calm because sometimes you just have a sodding bad day! I have quit smoking, have outrageous PMT, am being completely irrational and my evil twin sister is going to get me fired soon. If you tell me the sun is yellow I’ll argue it’s green, have a tantrum then burst into tears, today I am a pleasure to be around.


So why the rant? From leaving the house to arriving at work my hair turned into a weird fraggle rock frizz and with the lack of a portable dehumidifier, work colleagues have entered me into the Diana Ross looky-likey contest and I may win. The P in PMT means I feel I am carrying a third more of my normal body weight around and I’ve already cried twice as I realised by definition I am a feminist, no not the Daily Mail 'bra burning, hairy, man hating' portrayal but yes, I do advocate women’s rights on the grounds of equality of the sexes as clearly stated in the New Oxford Dictionary.

I later find out that my ex had an affair with a mutual friend when she was still with me. This was bad enough but over the years I carried the guilt of believing it was me that ruined the relationship. To top it off I’ve spent an evening in Soho wondering where have all the women gone and how will I ever meet any when they are at home with their partners, watching the L Word and feeding the cat? Today I am a fat single lesbian feminist with frizzy hair!

To counterbalance my negative day, I need to stop complaining and do something positive. To start with, I am banning the word FINE (F**ked off, Insignificant, Negative and Empty) and campaigning to have the word C**T introduced as a term of endearment. This will allow me to regularly use the word, not get fired and not feel bad when referring to a ‘mutual friend’ as one.

In order to find women with similar interests, I need to be the connecter and start my own social networking group. It’s going to be called the Society for Lesbians Against Generalised Stereotypes or in short – SLAGS. We’ll meet monthly in a Stoke Newington pool hall, eat a fish supper, discuss the literate complexities of ‘Oranges are not the only fruit’ and plan an annual trip to Lesbos. Anyone interested?

My friends and I prided ourselves on the fact we did not fit into the lesbian stereotypes, we didn’t wear Doc Martins, carry keys on chains; we ate meat, we weren’t overly political and we certainly didn’t swap partners. Oh, how we fooled ourselves, we have all slept with each other if not physically but by proxy, and now I know my ex slept with a friend, my by proxy list has trebled. Maybe on the first SLAGS meeting we can track our relationship links in a very ‘L word’-esque way and prove the six degrees of separation theory.

In the big picture, my day wasn’t that bad, no one died and life is generally good. I essentially only have PMT and feel like a rant but f**k it we’re all allowed to have a bad day!