I bought a pair of iridescent red heels.

I am feeling very blue. When I am left on my own for more than a few minutes, my thoughts begin to spiral. Self doubt slithers down my throat and squeezes all the air out.

Talking to my mom on the phone today. Moaning about no work.

"Don't take it personally," my mom said, even before I said I felt that way.

"It's hard not to," I said. "I'm good. I don't know why nobody's hiring me."

"Don't think like that," my mom said vehemently. "It don't matter if you're God dressed up like a props builder: if there's no positions to be had. nobody's going to hire you or anybody."

She has a point, but I still find my thoughts spiralling.

I have another meeting at another theatre with another technical director.

My brain hurts. I took some painkillers, but it hasn't kicked in yet.

I want to update my wardrobe. I'm trying to keep on top of throwing out things that have worn out, or donating things I don't like so well.

I want a wardrobe where I can pull out any piece of clothing and feel and look good in it.

I've been trying to dress up more.

I like wearing heels, but I'm so damned tall already, that wearing a pair of heels will push me over six feet.

Then I just feel like an Amazon.

And I feel powerful, and I feel sexy, but I don't feel desireable.

I know that sounds silly, but it's true.

I look down at the men looking up at me and I think: I would crush these people. Between my height and my physical job, I could snap their spines with my muscular thighs and suffocate them with my breasts.

So I just never ask anybody out.

And nobody asks me out.

And that's just the way it is.

Maybe one day I'll meet a man who is big enough not to notice, or who is strong enough not to worry, or who likes me enough not to care.

Who knows.

I haven't worn my new heels out yet.

Soon eough. Soon enough.

.

Rosie.

Before&After