Well now… what have we here?
Yesterday in my bedroom, I caught sight of something peeking out from underneath the bed. I knelt down to take a look.
Well, looky here. Recognize this?
Not familiar? Hmmm.
Recognize it now?
Thought you might. It’s ST’s paddle, one he made with his own two hands. Not super-thick/thuddy like the frat style I hate, but it packs a wallop nonetheless.
So. Let’s ponder upon how angelic I am. I could have kept quiet about this and let him wonder. Let him discover it’s missing but not say a word. Perhaps he dropped it out of his bag somewhere. Perhaps there’s been a rash of theft in Encino, a kinky burglary ring stealing spanking implements. Or perhaps I accidentally mistook it for a piece of scrap lumber (you know, those turn up in my bedroom all the time) and tossed it into John’s fireplace.
But noooo. I am here admitting to the world that I found it, that I’m keeping it safe for him next Monday. I think I should be rewarded for my honesty. Don’t you?
On another topic…
Feeling a bit blech today. Fallout from yesterday, I guess. On the plus side, I had a lovely lunch with Mija at Canter’s Deli — we sat for three hours and yakked away. But on the minus side, I feel like I lost a friend yesterday, due to circumstances completely beyond my control. Scene drama, one I’m not involved in, but a friend is, and I got unintentionally and unwillingly sucked into the vortex.
John said I did nothing wrong. I know, intellectually, that I didn’t, but it feels like I did. I hate it when people are angry at me, won’t talk to me. It kicks in all those old rejection/abandonment issues that have dogged me since the early days when my mother would punish me by ignoring me and refusing to speak to me. I’d chase after her and cry, begging her to talk to me. Stupid, stupid old crap. But it’s real.
The down side of being involved in any community. Wherever there are people, there is drama. This is why I choose solitude so often.
Plus, John had a horrendous day at work yesterday and vented to me. Naturally, I wish I could fix things and make it all better for him, and I can’t. I hate that he’s so stressed out. But I remembered this morning that this time last year, he was deathly ill, and now, at least he is healthy and robust, albeit exhausted. Perspective. Could be worse.
Days like this, I really do wish I had some work to do. Occupy my nattering brain on something productive.
Sorry for meandering. I will feel better after I go kick some butt at the gym. It’s about 100 degrees outside… at least my A/C is working.