I have finally caught up on sleep after those long nights for the M&A successful acquisition Ofelia dealt with. We are done with that nightmare, so it seems like a good time to finally ask for that promotion. I never felt ready for more responsibility, but after supporting her throughout such difficult times, I think the time might be right. I proved I can work under stress and not lose my cool regardless of the situation and/or personal circumstances. My input might have not been the brightest, but I think it would be alright to assume it provided some type of skeleton for Ofelia’s strategy. Now I just have to be assertive without being too scary and demand my promotion. People always talk about how success is based on what you are confident enough to ask for. And the chances people take with you. The instances in which they put you in front of problem and let you deal with it. For women the egg and the chicken problem doesn’t seem to exist. Nobody questions their background and how much they have achieved until now, but rather get questioned about their future plans and how they will make us of their natural abilities to lead in order to solve the daily puzzles in the office. Sometimes it does feel like we have to work 50 times harder just to gain some type of street credibility. And then there come so many nuanced implications. Allusions to why, what, who. It is never just your own fair and square merit. You have probably charmed your way up. You have probably flexed your muscles at a couple of ladies. It seems to be unfathomable that solely through the power of your neurones, hard work and discipline you have reached success and status. I do not even know what is what we are reaching for. What is a man’s Nirvana at work and at home? A man’s goal seems to be more of a carrot on a stick. Being tricked to move forward and run faster, just to never reach a state of peace. Never reach wide acceptance. The male winner always stands alone. So is that a won race, if you end up lonely in the cold? Nobody to share the so called success with.

Seeing Ofelia walk into the office grabbed me back to earth and to the fact that I do have bills to pay and carrots to catch. I need this promotion on a personal level, too. I need to prove I am an high value man, otherwise the girl bosses will not take me seriously. I practice one more time in my head what I was about to say and confidently walk into her office.

I start talking, but the moment I see her frown, my voice starts slowly breaking and my well practiced speech turns into a messy blabber. Ofelia naturally declines and cites some structural hindrances. I nod and leave her alone. I now feel sorry for even having asked, but the fact that she re-invited me to the company’s drinks tonight make me feel better. Going out on a work day is the last I would like to do, but she is showing some good will, so I shall not plant the bad seeds between us. The day flies, I am filled with remorse and a weird type of guilt, as if I have done something awfully wrong while constantly trying to remind myself that this is all part of the game. I chose this we I chose to have a career. I might as well have been the man behind a woman and enjoy domestic life. We do have a choice nowadays and I have made use of mine. Now I better play up to it.

As I approach the bar where all the women from work are standing, my legs start feeling weak and my head overheats. I guess it is the excitement of hanging out with everyone in such a chill environment. Without all the pressure from work. We might be on the same level now. I say hello and order a drink for myself. Just when I turn around, one of my old Bumble dates is just there. Starring at me. She says hello to all my co-workers and bosses. I am terrified to see her. To see her here. It would be awkward enough to bump into her on the streets on my own, but here, with everyone from work it is just unbearable. Before I can even wish for them to not realise where we know each other from, the group asks and she shouts _bumble_ out. If my head was overheating before, right now, my head explodes. I can feel my cheeks turning red and my heart pumping blood at rates never seen before. I cannot even hear the comments of the others, but they are embarrassing. Tamara is the worse, I just see her grimaces and perky smiles and I am so glad, that my brain froze and cannot hear her mean comments. This ordeal goes on for what feels like an eternity. I try to navigate it, but faintly smiling, nodding and semi-laughing at the jokes at my expense. The last thing I want to do is show that I am uncomfortable or upset. That would mean weak and can only be interpreted as an invitation to more of this.

I am heavily sweating under my shirt and I can feel some drops sliding on my back. Thank god I am next to the bar and I can lean on it, otherwise I would have longed passed out. I am sort of passed out. My muscles are still keeping my skeleton upright and my face still works, but inside I am gone. I am somewhere completely different. Probably 100 meters under the earth, hiding away from all this embarrassment.

Until Ofelia, my saviour, finally decides to shut them all up. I have never been so thankful to her in my life. For this only I should work for free the rest of the year.