I had five social events and numerous phone calls in the week around my birthday. FIVE!
It is amazing to me that people want to spend time with me (I am a bad friend/daughter/sister etc, for the most part), and I am grateful for their perseverance, as much as I find the socialising exhausting.
I could pretend that the over-peopling is the reason I’ve kind of shut down, because I have shut down. But it’s not that. That doesn’t help of course, but it’s not the cause.
A kind of malaise has settled over me. It is soft and drifty and I can feel it swirling, but it’s not some sharply-focussed attention-seeking screaming banshee. It’s there, sitting somewhere between the occasional ‘can’t be bothered’ and that heavy grey cloud of ‘uuggghhh why is life’, sucking all motivation into it like some black hole.
It will pass. I know. But its presence means that everything seems like Too Much Trouble. Bah.
It’s a beautiful winter’s day, cool, calm, clear. The big Norfolk pine outside my window must be 80 years old, ponderously waving its branches, warning me that the wind is strong out there. They are stoic in the breeze, so their sway means there is some force in the cold wind that’s blowing from down south.
I don’t need an excuse not to go out, but ‘cold and windy out there’ is still a good one, in case I want it.
It’s Friday and I feel like going out for pizza. I am, in actual fact, too lazy to go out for pizza. This ‘gluttony vs sloth’ clash is, I swear, the only reason that not having junk food in the house actually works to stop me from eating junk food.
If I want it, and it’s not already in the house, it’s just too bad.
The need has to be really strong to warrant making myself presentable and going out for it. For some reason delivery is really not an option, never is. I don’t know why.
My stunning orchid is blooming, as she does every year since she was gifted to me as a housewarming present. I don’t ‘do’ plants, I can’t be trusted. They die and then I feel bad.
This beauty, though, is thriving with little care or attention, I mean, look at her!
I have lucked upon the perfect spot for her, I guess. She gets some morning sun when I wake up and open the curtains, a water bath when her bottom leaves start to wrinkle, and a repotting after she has let go of her stunning foliage for another year.
I am proud of her and she makes me happy in that way beautiful things you’re responsible for do.
When I tried on that super cute sports bra I’m wearing in the photo above, the hot pink curtain in the dressing room provided a perfect backdrop for a selfie. I love it, both the little top and the photo.
I don’t go anywhere sporty without a singlet (tank top) on, so nobody is going to see a gorgeous little sports bra when I’m working out or doing Pilates or wandering around after either, which puts such things firmly into the ‘why bother’ basket. But cute is cute, amirite?!
A lovely submissive boy bought that for me, more on him later… :).
A couple of months ago I made a commitment to ‘do some form of exercise every day’ (this vs ‘go to the gym’) because I somehow could NOT find the impetus to go to the gym, so I changed my goals. I’m doing a short sharp HIIT routine on the days between my two Pilates classes every week. I’ve missed a few days over the last 2 months, but overall I’m doing great with it despite my low energy mood. So go me!
It’s interesting to me that when I first wrote that, I put an apologetic tone around that statement (a kind of “I’m not doing real exercise, I’m doing this dinky little thing, it’s tiny, hardly anything really…” dismissal). Bah! No!! I’m doing some fucking exercise every fucking day, STFU ‘never-good-enough’ brain!
I had hopes of some natural segue into gym-work again, but it hasn’t happened yet. Gym-going has never NOT been a struggle for me. I somehow never get all the good feels you’re supposed to get from it. I didn’t even when I was 100% committed, went 6 days a week, and was kicking serious arse. I’m not ever going to be one of those ‘yay gym!’ people, I’m a ‘oh FFS, this shit again?!’ gym person. So I’m going to have to force it at some point, but in the meantime I’m letting myself feel smug about sticking to my commitment.
No real dating news.
I contacted a couple of submissives on a BDSM dating site, but neither of them were local, and a quick exchange showed we weren’t compatible. I was not sorry to back out of having to make that effort (and as I type that, part of me whispers ‘If it’s an effort, then they already were not a fit for you’, which may or may not be true).
I’ve not been back onto the vanilla dating site, though I see notifications coming into my inbox about ‘likes’ and messages from there. I don’t have the fortitude to deal with it. I should probably deactivate my profile, but even logging in there feels like some insurmountable hill to climb.
I am very envious of those women for whom it is not a monumental effort to date, who happily skip around chit chatting away, who like pretty much everyone they meet, who have great sex even if it doesn’t go anywhere, who run at dating with this seemingly boundless enthusiasm and energy. Sure they get fucked over and hurt more than me, but their fearlessness is amazing. They still manage to dust themselves off, get back up, and try again. It’s astounding to me. If nothing else, the sheer weight of numbers is in their favour for meeting someone who actually works out, and in the meantime, they find the process of dating some kind of ‘fun’. Baffling.
Not related to ‘dating’, but certainly about relationships, I’m exploring some light financial domination with my champagne boy. I’ve mentioned him on twitter a few times (every time I get a case of champagne :)), and a couple of times here on the blog, but I haven’t talked in any detail about what’s going on with him. That’s going to change.
The financial domination aspect of our relationship is a brand new experiment on both of our parts, and I’ll tell you all about how we started and how it works for us.
My regular readers will be unsurprised to learn that our arrangement bears no resemblance to the kind of stereotypical findom you find all over the internet :).
That’s all my random snippetry.
I’m going to make some disgustingly healthy snacks (still want that pizza btw!), and finish watching Dark (it’s doing my head in both in a good and bad way).
A wonderful potpourri of thoughts! My heart skipped a beat when you wrote “A lovely submissive boy bought that for me…”. It’s always so wonderful and encouraging to be spoken of in such endearing terms by a Mistress of Your stature – rather like Her finger gently scratching under Her pet’s chin!
Thank you David. I tend to do these aimless updates when I’ve not blogged for a while. I’m really glad they’re fun to read :).
Ahh, and yes, good boys deserve scritches!
by here a sybian
A question, please! ( and totally sincere)…
The sybian; does it work well or at all on male bodies? Here, I am more precisely thinking of souls blessed with female minds and attributes, but burdened with masculine physical structures.
Thank you or any responders, in advance…
I don’t know what is going on here. For a spammer, stephanie is very bad because there’s not even a link in that comment, so I’m going to leave it for the lulz.
@Duane: That is a really good question, but I’m preeeettttyyy sure you can find a more reliable source for information about the sybian for male-bodied anal than a spammy commenter. Try here: https://sybian.com/ :).
Both you and your orchid are quite gorgeous, Ferns. Silly northern hemisphere dweller that I am I realized with a bolt that when the cold air blows in the southern hemisphere it comes from the south! That I have an earned doctoral degree makes this realization all the more embarrassing. Suffice it to say you are educating on far more than what can and should be done with one’s boy [swoon]. Both are deeply appreciated. Good weekend to you!
Thanks for the compliment, Stacy :).
The comment about the hemispheres made me laugh: Happy to provide these educational snippets :).
I see you’re ready to read and love “The Wall of Irreality”. A bit of the same idea, but shorter and not as pretty.
I will have to take a look at that :).
Though I have a lot more patience for this kind of head fuckery in film than in books. I think because the visual clues help me to keep track even when I struggle, and because film-makers are ‘lowest common denominator’ level invested in explaining things to the widest possible audience :P.
Lovely snippets! I am curious about your HIIT routine. I became a firm believer in it… Mostly because I don’t like running.
I hate doing any kind of cardio: So boring! So yeah HIIT isn’t bad.
I’m doing the ‘7 minute workout‘ because there have been actual studies on its efficacy (I’m very big on at least *some* level of scientific proof, don’t waste my time with your made up fads :P).
I use this app for it, which saves me having to time anything or remember what I’m doing (there are a bunch of apps out there for it).
Best case: You do the 7 minutes multiple times. Worst case: You do it once and you STILL did something good for yourself :).
You think *you* love that sports bra?!
Thankyou for another and beautiful picture.
Of course men also have melancholy, philosophical moods and the nature of existence is WHOA! SPORTS BRA! YESSSSS!
*laugh* Hilarious comment, thank you!
Wait, what picture of a sports bra? Oh I see it excellent camouflage there Ferns
I AM HIDING MY TITS, NO-ONE CAN SEE THEM NOW!!!
Oh NO… That is just the most sadistic ( or sad ) news I have read this month. I will have to crawl off and abuse myself. Oh well my vision is getting bad anyway…
I’m sure your imagination will more than suffice :P.