As we were leaving the airport my friend turned to me and said, “How are you getting home? Uber?” "No," I said. "Uber thinks women talk too much, so I’m gonna Lyft.” (In June, David Bonderman - who has since resigned - made the comment that if there were more women on the Uber board there’d be more talking.) Yeah, ok. I deleted the Uber app before the end of the news segment. "He said what? Boy, bye." Now I spend the money I earn (from Talking — yes, talking with a capital “T”) elsewhere.
I didn't realize how tightly my tubes were tied to my wallet. (So many financial battles; so little money.) It feels good to give my righteous indignation something to do; a mini workout if you will. Mini because I typed this on my Mac while sipping water out of a plastic bottle and eating food I didn't grow myself. And these extra snug-fit, big girl panties I'm wearing are probably not conflict-free. I don't know that for sure since I have a biological and psychological low tolerance for Google right now. It must be the estrogen that makes me so emotional. If anybody needs me, I'll be on Bing.