this morning #1234.

this morning, i wished i could shift the pitch of my voice. for them. not for me. well, sort of for me. down slightly. just a little bit, just enough to get into that range that society takes more seriously. it’s not as if i can help the way that my voice sounds. when folks hear me speak, it’s like they hear a child & treat me accordingly. one of my coworkers always reminds me how “adorable” i am. there’s this elderly man who comes into the café at least once a day. he refers to me as “that little girl” to his caretaker. i’m a grown ass woman, you dirty old man. hell, i already have a touch of arthritis in my left hand. found a grey hair the other day. i’ve done my time. i wish people would treat me with respect.