I never outgrew that childish anxiety that comes the night before something new or important. I can’t make myself sleep before first days of classes, trips, etc.
And so I can’t sleep before this silly munch. Because I am unbelievably lame.
But, guys, it’s like my cotillon into kinky society. So bear with me here. I’m just an anxious little debutante, clearly.
And packed.
A little.
So, I quit my job today. With less than two weeks left of it. But my boss crossed a line and I decided to shut it down.
I excused myself for about twenty minutes beforehand and freaked out about doing it. I’m a wuss when it comes to confrontation. But, I knew I’d regret it if I went in there with my tail between my legs.
Well, I handled it so professionally that my boss said she understood, gave me my pay for the week, and even gave me some extra money and offered to buy me dinner. So, I’m proud of myself. I’ve been working, in and out of relationships, to learn how to address things when they bother me rather than let them stew and to appreciate the legitimacy of my feelings. I consider the fact that I kept my dignity and served myself and my needs to be a huge step here.
So, uh, yay me.
Can I get the check on this week, please?
Yes, I am about to use my sex blog to whine.
This week has been a mess.
Sunday kicked it off with a really brilliant moral dilemma that I was totally not mentally or emotionally prepared to take on at all.
Work was absolutely horrible. Indescribably bad.
My car is totally, completely, irreparably dead. While we managed to get a deal on a rental, as my mother and I were sharing that car and literally have no other vehicle aside from our two feet, and can’t afford to get another car, literally half of my savings is going to it.
A really important deadline is fast approaching and I am having so much trouble getting everything together.
I got into an argument with SG over Chik-fil-A, of all things. Chik-motherfucking-fil-A. And he was so immature and so condescending.
My laptop had a problem and, since I sort of need it for this deadline and quite a bit more, I had to go get that taken care of. Goodbye, even more money.
I haven’t gotten any in two months. Can I just put that out there? Because I am putting that out there because for God’s sake. I’ve been so stressed I haven’t even been in the mood for anything anyway, but ugh.
Yes, I know, I’m whining. But I feel like life’s putting a gun to my head and telling me to shut up and walk.
So, check please. Get me the fuck out of here.
“But I don’t want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin.” – Aldous Huxley, Brave New World.
I received an ask yesterday from somebody from Ivy University. Who identified that I, too, was from Ivy University.
I read the email about it while on break and just about had a panic attack. I felt nauseous. I used the email in the ask to send the person a message and the whole time wondered if I would have to close up shop.
I have always, always been worried about this tumblr being discovered. Being the worrier I am, I assumed this person might be one of my friends, or – much worse – one of the people I mention on my tumblr.
Fortunately, after some correspondence, we have concluded that we don’t run in the same social circles at all, aren’t in the same year and most likely don’t know each other. Which is, yeah, sort of a relief. Naturally, I’m still a reasonable amount concerned about things. And, it’s a little strange to bridge the gap between tumblr persona and real life self. While we don’t know each other’s names, it’s still odd.
Bottom line: Ivy thought her greatest fear of being discovered had been realized and had a panic attack, but things aren’t so bad after all.
Well, I got the results of my biospy for that freckle today. It’s benign!
There has been a lot of cancer in my immediate and extended family and I’m naturally a little bit of a worrier, so sometimes I just assume the worst. I was pretty flippant about the whole thing to most people, but there was a little nag in the back of my head that maybe it was something worse.
But, fuck you, cancer, you haven’t caught up yet.
Once my face heals up completely, I can continue my sexytimes in peace. Amen.
Driving in my hometown today, I noticed a badger coming off of the sidewalk. I had literally no time to get myself out of the way of this thing.
Long story short: I swerved to avoid hitting a badger and still wound up hitting a badger.
Long story long: It was in front of my ex’s house. I haven’t mentioned him on my tumblr much specifically, but he’s the first person to have tied me up. There’s still a lot of hurt there. We really don’t talk, but we’re at a place where there’s no animosity.
Long story longer: I sort of had a little bit of a panic attack over hitting this badger. I literally felt this thing under the wheel. I didn’t look back, but I am fairly sure I killed the badger. And, at that moment, I was fairly sure it was stuck in the wheel like those crazy hit-and-run victim cases you hear about.
And so I took my phone out and called him in a panic. He seemed kind of surprised to hear from me when I answered the phone and proceeded to start spewing nonsense about badgers and wheels and the tiny life that had perished under my car.
You have to understand, tumblr, I did animal rights advocacy for years. I swerved my car to try to avoid killing a badger. And now I was having a panic attack about it.
And so he came right outside and tried not to laugh too hard when I told him what was going on. He checked under my car for any badger remains, he made sure I was okay, he asked me how I was otherwise. It’s funny how he calmed me down, there were those vague remnants of how he used to act when he was dominating me. I’m not saying he was trying to dom me or get me back, just that the dynamic worked because, yeah, it worked. Tried and true.
“I have to admit,” he said, “when you called, I figured I was in trouble for something.” That had basically summed us up pretty well. I was the whistleblower, he was the troublemaker.
I’m not sure why I’m posting about this. I guess I should say something cheesy about not forgetting the first person to dominate you, blah blah. But I guess also to say that there is so much of other people that you carry with you that you’ll always have some compassion for them.
When I was 18 I wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit, when I was 25 I wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit, when I was 35 I wanted to fuck on the floor and break shit, now I’m 40 and I want to fuck on the floor and break shit