I have had, largely, a bad year… that is dramatic and ‘woe is me-ish’, but it’s true nevertheless. Some of it I have shared here, some of it I haven’t because, frankly, whining and carrying on is no fun… mostly it is not interesting to write about and I have no doubt that it is not interesting to read about.
I use this blog as a way to take a moment out of the mundane and to bring into the light those snippets that strike me outside of the day to day. They are not always shiny happy moments, but they are moments that hit me like a sledge hammer, moments that mean something, moments that matter, moments about which I actually have something to say. The dullness of bad things does not generally live here.
Taking hits of badness one after another, though, is exhausting and somewhat debilitating and I am just now, I think, starting to come out of it. And so, I am restless.
I am now at the stage where I want… something…
I am restless…
Restless is a good thing… it is a sign that I am getting ready to move, a signal that things are lifting from my shoulders, a feeling of shaking myself out from under, like a dog up on the river bank after a swim, that thoughtless, enthusiastic shake and wiggle that makes the water fly everywhere, regardless of the consequences.
Part of this feels like waking up the other ‘me’ inside that has been largely dormant… I *want* things… it is a positive feeling… one of greed and possibility.
I am taking a month off from work soon, a month to look around and figure out ‘what next’, a month that I would more recently have planned with incredible glee and pleasure to spend lavishing undivided attention on my boy. It is sad for the fact that a few weeks off now have a different flavour, and I am trying hard not to dwell on it, but it is top of mind for the change it brings.
I would love nothing more than to have a month of fun… you know… fun!!?! It’s the thing you have when the order of the day is selfish enjoyment… when the answer to the question ‘what shall I do today?’ is a plethora of exciting and enjoyable possibilities. What I really want is a month of beauty and pleasure, of kissing and laughing and playing and aggression and craziness and sweetness and… well… I just want to have some frigging fun!!!
What I want, really, is some lovely submissive boy who would like to whisk me away for a few weeks somewhere exotic and fabulous, who will entertain me in a most lavish and hedonistic manner, who will cater to my every whim, who will not expect me to lift a finger except to point to the champagne bottle and demand more, whose every thought will be centred around my pleasure, who will make me laugh and make me want to kiss him, who will organise everything so that I don’t have to even *think*…
Said volunteer must be terribly and alarmingly and dangerously appealing of course!
Any takers?… Anyone? You, there, up the back… yes you… you… the shy one with the pretty mouth…!