Horrible night, slept poorly. Nelson, my running partner and I both agreed to not run this a.m., we needed more sleep, I'd run tonight, so no adrenalin flooding through my body. And I slept in. And my house was trashed and I threw on a sundress, my shades, and clipped my hair up.
And after crossing the street, juggling with what music to listen to while balancing my bags, a van backing into the driveway whistled at me. I stopped. The driver got out.
"Why did you do that? Did you think I'd appreciate that? That doesn't make me feel good."
The guy stammered, "I...uh...I'm sorry."
"That's really not acceptable. I don't appreciate being whistled at or treated like that."
I'm sick of this. They don't get it. What would make a man think that a whistle, a hey baby, a leer out the window would make them feel good? If anything, it makes me feel like I need to take a shower to wipe any imprint their slimy eyes left on my body. Do you know how it feels to go back home after leaving your house to put on a longer skirt? Do you know what it feels like to feel happy that you look good - only to feel like no, you're just a sex object for men to leer at and fuck.
Not what I want to wake up to. And definitely not what I want to hear.