In Which My Victorian Side Emerges
Ok, ok, I admit I was raised in a pretty strict Catholic family, but I don’t really consider myself to be that uptight.
In fact, I’m a fairly laid back cat in a lot of ways. I laugh at dirty jokes. I *tell* dirty jokes and I have enough street smarts to make it through life just fine.
Generally I believe live and let live. It’s all good.
Ok. Now that we’ve laid that groundwork.
There is something going on at work that has my Puritanical lace handkerchief all in a ruffle.
It’s really in my craw, and so I’m going to use my blog to have some group therapy.
Ok. Here we go.
This is the breakroom on my floor here at work.
Your everyday average office breakroom, right? Coffee. Tea. Microwave. Sink for rinsing out your dishes.
Great.
Across the hall from the breakroom is the “mom’s room” where ladies who are breastfeeding their babies can go, have a quiet moment, and pump.
Great. I’m all for that. I think it’s fantastic that my company has set aside this resource strictly for working moms.
And it’s convenient that the women who use this room have the sink nearby to wash up their gear and get it ready for the next use. Perfect.
Well.
Ahem.
Let’s zoom in a bit on that last photo.
One of the ladies rinses out her pumping supplies and leaves them on the counter to air dry.
In the public breakroom. Right by the coffee maker (usually. Not in this photo.)
Yesterday, she set them to dry on the same paper towel that held the coffee cup belonging to Mr. Big Boss. They were touching his coffee mug.
Her boobs were just in there, you know. AND…I know who it is who is doing this, so it makes it seem even weirder. I try not to think about my coworkers boobs.
I am really struggling with this. I utterly support a woman’s right to breastfeed her baby, and be a working woman, and use the resources in the office.
But do I have to reach over this to get myself a tea bag and a packet of Splenda?
Her boobs were just in there!
I believe if it were me, I’d want to take the boob couplers with me back to my office to dry. I mean….who KNOWS what people are doing in there around your boob dealies? What if someone splashes their lunch on there? Or…touches them?
I know. I know. This betrays the “laid back” attitude I described above.
But this just drives me bonkers.
Thanks for letting me talk about it. I’ll get over it.
I feel better now.