Never Send a Man To Do a Woman's Job

After an emotionally exhausting few days, I find myself left with a terribly negative thought pattern in my head. It's on repeat. It's on full blast... high volume. It's bad.

You're too nice. Such a pushover. Way too accepting. You did something wrong. You've been lied to. You're not good enough. What's wrong with you, anyways???

So after a good little cry on my way home from work in the rain today, I decided it's time for a nice positive uplifting blog post.

Ok, my cry may have been more than "little." It was more like an ugly cry. So ugly that that the guy stopped at the light beside me on Macleod Trail concerningly looked over at me and mouthed the words, "Are you ok?" You know what I'm talking about. Full snot streams out of both nostrils. Horrific looking mascara streaks down the face and neck. And that noise. That awful sobbing/gasping noise where your lungs are furiously trying to inhale enough oxygen and regulate your breathing patterns to get your body out of this extreme state of panic and hyperventilation. Come to think of it, I probably shouldn't have been driving.

But I'm fine. I just need a good cry every once in a while. Once it's out, life is good again.

ANYWAYS... this is supposed to be a positive entry. And it is! I am going to celebrate all the things that I do better than men. Actually no, I am going to celebrate all the things that WOMEN DO BETTER THAN MEN. Hence the beautiful, profound and poetic title of this post.

So aside from being better drivers, living longer, making smarter investments, and being superior communicators (I don't make this shit up, dudes. Its all fact - read the studies), we are also better at much more, maybe less tangible or quantifiable, but still equally as important.

-Worrying
Move over guys, this is our specialty. Maybe it's worrying about whether or not you had enough to eat for lunch, made it to work safely, or are having a good day in general. We have got it covered. And fuck yes, this is a good thing. I am tired of feeling bad about the things that I do well. And damnit, I worry well. And statements like "Don't worry, I'll be fine" are usually indicators to us to worry more, FYI jackass.

-Having The Flu
I think I have mentioned it before, but men are whiney little bitches when they're sick. Seriously, just give us all the sickness there is. The world would be a much better place if only women got sick. We suck it up, suffer in silence, take care of ourselves, and get better. Men sniffle, whine, complain and exaggerate about ailments, that to us, hardly seem worthy of mention.

-Planning
This is something my mom has always warned me of. "Sorry sweetness, you're going to have to plan this one. Don't wait for him to do it." And holy shit, is she right. Trying to plan a vacation, dinner party, or even a movie can literally be like pulling teeth when you are trying to collaborate with your man.

-Getting Shit Done
It's true. Whether it's paying a parking ticket, making reservations, buying groceries, or the dreaded, TALKING ABOUT FEELINGS, leave it to us to get it done. If we left it to them, the world would be a monstrous, uncommunicative mess.

-Caring
Ok, maybe that's a bit harsh. I know that men care. I just don't think they express how they care as well as we do. Or maybe it's how we care, the quality of care that's different.
But I am generalizing both parties. Maybe all women don't care like I do. So I will speak for myself.

I care whole-heartedly and with total and complete abandonment. I care so much that it hurts me sometimes. I care to the point where all I can think about is that other person, what they are doing, how they are, what THEY are feeling, and how I can help them. I pour my heart into caring. I will even care to the point of exhaustion, even when I know it will not be reciprocated, or know I will be hurt.

That is how much I care.

And not selectively. It's not a time sensitive, mood-dependant thing. It's there all the time. It's me.

So rather than feeling inferior, weak, or pathetic for my amazing caring abilities, I'm choosing to love them. And KNOW that they will serve me well.

Besides, I would rather pour my whole heart and soul into something I care about, give every ounce of who I am, love with every fiber or my being and end up completely and utterly heartbroken, trampled, ruined and devastated, than NOT care, NOT try, NOT put in the effort, and look back in regret, wishing that I had.