Replaceable

It's quiet, the kind of quiet where you hear the hum of traffic from one block over but you can't actually see it, the air is kind of still and kind of warm, it says 50 but feels colder. You know Spring is coming and that's a good sign but we are not quite there yet. Your feet echo on the pavement as you walk, they make clicking sounds and you like that, you walk hard, you always have, and some people turn their head when they hear you coming, you imagine they expect to see a guy with perhaps expensive Italian shoes and instead they behold you. But you are just as good as any man, you are as strong, as smart, as practical, maybe more so. But there are times, times when you are as feminine as any woman, times when you feel weak, you wonder why weakness is attributed to women, also known as the weaker sex, and what makes a man strong and a woman weak, but that's just the way it is. You're all woman when you get mad at your boss for having you stay late and wasting your time, sometimes so mad that you want to throttle him or stab him with a knife. Ya, not really that mad but then again you made a deal with Patrick from work that he would warn you before he shot up the place and you would do the same. Of course, there are days when you hate it so much you threaten-- in your head of course-- to quit, to just leave. You imagine them panicking saying what will we do without her, how will we survive, but of course you are replaceable, everyone is.