Rebellion, Feminism, and Mackerel Pâté

Rebellion, Feminism, and Mackerel Pâté

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Ok, there may or may not be a photo above this sentence. They (THEEEEEY) have gone and changed things (after I’d just got used to them) and now I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Although, even if you can see the photo, you probably don’t know what it is. Again, it has nothing to do with what I’m going to write about, but like I said yesterday, I miss putting up photos. They make the post look nice as well, although this is a photo of mackerel pâté and so I’m not 100% certain that I’ve achieved my aesthetic desire with this particular image. It was, however, very tasty. My step-mum (whose cooking is very questionable) made it and so I was a little surprised. She’s actually become a very good cook, but I remember what she used to feed us back in the day (things like egg trifles) and so I can’t help but feel a bolt of fear whenever she says the dreaded words, “I’ll make dinner tonight”.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Anyway, the shop was relatively quiet yesterday. There was another Dickens Cider joke; another affronted female, but since the shop is no longer a space of free speech and independent views, no one knows where feminism stands. These really are turbulent times.

Yesterday was quite a turbulent shift, actually. My shift started at four, which I hate. At that time, the staff have already established their roles and unless you take over from someone, then you’re sort of…out of the loop. I just wandered around for an hour, rustling things so it looked like I was doing something, but there really wasn’t anything for me to do and everyone knew that, but the pretence goes on. It wasn’t long, however, until the other staff left and the new owners tend to leave me alone a lot, which is AWESOME. I count down the minutes until it’s time for their dinner, dreaming of all the things I’ll get up to when they’re gone. I’ll go on my phone, sit down for a bit, put my feet up, eat some chocolate, read a magazine…my plans are endless, but when they do finally leave, I can’t bring myself to carry any of them out. I just work. The most rebellious thing I did yesterday was eat a bag of crisps while I filed accounts, which I would be allowed to do ANYWAY.

Therefore, my aim for this evening is to establish where exactly feminism stands and to become a significantly more rebellious individual.

 

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