“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”
~ Oscar Wilde
In this post or semi lockdown world we are struggling in many ways. Not in terms of our overall relationship, all is well there. But in terms of M/s. Most of the time I don’t feel particularly submissive or slave like and I don’t think he is feeling particularly dominant.
We have been released from the confines of our home and local area. But mostly there are few places we want to go. Theatres and music venues are clothed and they are the places that Master gets his inspiration and thrills. Reading, listening to music or theatre from the comfort of your home is ok. But it isn’t the same. We usually go into London frequently for this kind of cultural input, but there’s no point going when there is little to do there.
We can visit open spaces, but the weather last week was appalling. At the weekend we were both pretty stir crazy but lethargic at the same time. We haven’t had sex in a couple of weeks. I want to but we both lack whatever it takes to get us off.
But that doesn’t mean that we won’t get back to where we want and need to be. We’ve discussed it and are hoping that our holiday in a few weeks (supposed we manage to go) will help. Warm weather, a change of scene and the ability to feel in some way free again are what we need. We hope.
Our sex life is all about power. His over me. I know that to feel my submission these days I need us to be having sex or else I need to be bent over being spanked or hit with one of his wicked implements. This feels like a chicken and egg situation because I think that’s probably what he needs too. To feel his power, Master needs to conjure up the willpower for sex. Or perhaps I need to fall to my knees and offer to suck his cock. Whichever we are both struggling to feel like making it happen.
I’m not good at initiating sex, nor am I good at saying what I want. I am better at writing about it, knowing he will read. We’ve just spent two days apart, as I write this I am in a hotel with a view of the sea. It’s early, so I expect he is sleeping. Later though, we will be back together and I’d like to think that we will both feel his power and my submission soon.
This story is dedicated to @sexblogofsorts who recently challenged me to write something inspired by this photo.
A recent feature of our relationship is that he books up our trips away. I’ve found this difficult to let used to. I like to control where I’m going, how I travel and what I do when I get there. But, when you sign up to a D/s relationship, you have to let go of some things. This apparently is one that will do me good.
Having said that, Sir has never let me down, and arriving at the airport to be told we were heading to Slovenia was intriguing. “A long weekend in the hills around lake Bled”, he said as we presented our boarding passes and passports to the person at the departure gate. Three hours later Sir was unlocking the door to our weekend retreat.
The bedroom was beautiful, spacious with an enormous bed. The bathroom was luxurious and contained both a shower and jacuzzi bath. But it was the living area that intrigued me most. I mean who furnishes their apartment with a day bed in the middle of the room? Who buys a animal hide covered chair? Don’t get me started on the elephant statue. But I digress.
Any thoughts I had of us getting changed and exploring the area were dashed when Sir informed me that sightseeing would wait until tomorrow. The kitchen was fully stocked, so dinner would be ‘at home’. He then instructed me to strip off.
When I returned from the bedroom naked Sir had covered the daybed with a sheet. “we don’t want to get the furry cover wet do we?” he smirked. Indeed not!. He had also moved the chair closer to the bed. I lay on the bed as instructed and then, from a cupboard he produced cuffs for my ankles and wrists. This was obviously no ordinary Airbnb. Minutes later my legs were spread and ankles secured to the bed. Sir sat down, smiling as he stroked the smooth hide. Thank goodness we aren’t vegetarian, I thought.
“Touch yourself, slut” He commanded. I used my left hand to feel between the lips of my cunt. Unsurprisingly I could feel my own slick juices. “rub yourself”, I pressed on my clit and rubbed gently, as it grew and hardened “faster” he said and of course I obeyed. There was certain humiliation to this scene, one that aroused me all the more. I could hear the trees rustling in the breeze, and the birds singing within their branches. I wondered if there were neighbours. This retreat seems isolated enough, but you can never tell.
“Pay attention” Sir stood over me grinning. I do have a habit of drifting off while masturbating myself. “Here use this” I took the wand he held out. “Start slow and turn it up as I tell you” I pushed the large vibrating bulb against my cunt and tried to concentrate my mine. I knew what was coming next.
Deep down I knew that the Coronavirus lockdown would last for months rather than weeks. But that doesn’t mean to say that I was emotionally prepared for it. Back in those early days at the end of March we were busy with home projects. During much of April we had good weather so eating lunch in the garden or on our balcony was a regular thing. We are used to spending lots of time together, so there was nothing new. Anyway, I was planning to be out a bit working. Then last week it was cold and wet, our projects were stuck and the work opportunity vanished. For a few days I felt without purpose and just plain miserable. I know Master feels it too. But I and we are fighting back. Below are my thoughts on the past 7 weeks detailing different parts of our love and life.
Getting things done
Over the winter we finally started to sort the house out. When I moved in nearly two years ago there was a lot of clutter which meant insufficient room for many of my things. I have my office which was completed last summer and so have my books there. But much of my treasured possessions remain in the garage and a lot of clothes are in boxes under the bed. So, where to start?
Master’s books were stacked everywhere in the living and dining room. So much so that I’ve never eaten at the dining table in this house. So I suggested the place to start was in those rooms. Progress was rapid and before Christmas we had specialist shelving installed on one side of both rooms. Then in March (after we’d finished decorating) the shelving was complete. I ordered new blinds for the windows and imagined we’d soon be straight.
But we have 7 or 8 empty bookshelves waiting to move and nowhere to put them. The household recycling centre closed in March and so we were stuck. Then the factory making my blinds closed and we had already thrown out the rails and curtains. I did manage to paint the hallway and want to continue into the kitchen, but we have nowhere to put the kitchen contents.
There is light at the end of the tunnel now because the recycling centres start reopening next week. I’m feeling hopeful that the blinds might be made soon too. I need to feel that we can get things done and make our enforced time at home worthwhile. Right now I feel more hopeful about that than I’ve done to date.
On the whole we have retained much of the structure of our life. Neither of us is working (we’ve both taken early retirement) so we don’t need to be up early, but I am a bit of an early bird. Master on the other hand is something of a night owl. I have learned over the past couple of years not to leap out of bed too early and having me around has encouraged him up sooner. We also have a more structured bed time than he previously had.
Our life is usually quite busy though. We go out to lots of cultural events – concerts, galleries, exhibitions and festivals. So, when there is nothing in the diary you need more than an occasional food shopping trip to make it feel worth getting up and going for.
At times we have both been filled with energy and enthusiasm to do things and at others not. Funnily enough not at the same time. I think this might be a good thing, because being lethargic together means we both struggle to do anything at all. We’ve tried to encourage each other on, but at times the frustration shows. We don’t argue often but when we do it isn’t pleasant. This week we’ve had late night arguments twice, something I’d like to avoid going forward.
Having announced to the world I was going back to nursing, I embarked on induction and training in my own time. Then just as I thought I was about to be let loose on the world they decided they didn’t really need me. Well they haven’t said that but that’s the implication. I have uniforms in my wardrobe and PPE in my car. Both will be returned if nothing happens, but it has made me feel really fed up.
Thankfully a new opportunity has arisen, which is to help with the contact tracing that will be needed to loosen lockdown. This work will definitely happen and I have a paid training shift in my diary and have some work shifts booked too. It is also a bit more money than the original work. This job will mean working from home, so no need for uniform or PPE. Plus, I think this is going to be a really worthwhile job that will need to continue for some time.
Master on the other hand has no intention of going back to work. Instead he is managing our financial affairs which took a bashing in March. Thankfully they are recovering with a few changes. Secondly he is rewriting a wikipedia page for a Spanish author and poet and that’s keeping him busy. Now the books are organised on shelves he has a veritable library to consult. His other project is to map Covid across a number of countries as he prefers his own charts and graphs. These things will help us both going forward I think because we have no idea when we can do the things we want out of the house or travel.
Love and sex
It would be safe to say that neither of us have much in the way of an active libido right now. We’ve had good sex, but not frequently and we haven’t played at all. It’s strange but at a time when we are unable to touch others we aren’t really touching each other much either. I’m not sure why that is. Both of us are making a conscious effort to instigate touch, often when we sit together in the evening. At night Master will put a hand on me, especially if I’ve been snoring. There have been a few hugs, but I feel we need to make an effort to do more.
I’ve written some sexy posts and read some sexy and erotic books and blog posts. But it has been hard to transfer those feelings to our own life. I’m hoping that we can find a way to prioritise those things. Longer days and warmer weather will help as will being active independently of each other during the day times.
I know we are lucky. We are together, haven’t taken a drop in income (other than our long term savings, but they will recover) nor do we need to homeschool any children. But that doesn’t mean that we find the current situation easy. We have mourned the loss of the life we had and don’t know when or if we will get all of it back. I’ve been sad to see former colleagues losing their colleagues, team or organisation members. I’ve also hated the decisiveness of the recent arguments in the sex blogging community. All of this takes its toll.
So, going forward I hope we can soon restart our work in the house. I also have some plans for the garden, since I’ll be here and so can actually grow some stuff. Flowers and also one or two vegetables. Fingers crossed the planned work comes to fruition this time and that we can regain a little of the structure we had lost. I hope that we’ll be able to go out places and walk more as we get to summer. At present a lot of woodlands etc. are open but you can’t park.
As for sex, well I plan to try to make more of an effort because I think my libido is more suppressed than Masters, partly because of my medication. But I would love him to do so too. I don’t feel terribly submissive a lot of the time and know we need to work on this too. But I do feel we can, I do feel hopeful and just a bit positive right now.
There are no categories beginning with X on my blog. So I went over to Kinkly to find a word to use and so my new category beginning with X is Xeronisus. It means a person who is unable to orgasm at all. Apparently it is a relatively common condition, more common in females. Those with the condition are unable to achieve orgasm through either masturbation or sexual intercourse.
I’m extremely pleased to say that I don’t suffer from xeronisus, though I have struggled to reach orgasm from time to time. At the moment I find it difficult without direct clitoral stimulation, preferably a vibrating toy.
When masturbation meant going solo I sometimes found orgasm difficult to reach. I could lie there stroking my clit for ages, insert toys into my vagina and still not come. What’s more vibrating toys sometimes couldn’t get me off either.
I found a great site called masturbation dot com which no longer seems to exist. There they had not only sexy stories but also information on how to get the most from masturbation. There I discovered more about my anatomy in relation to orgasms than I had learnt elsewhere. Subsequently I found my G spot, something of a revelation. Clitoral orgasms are my favourite still but I do love a G spot one and Master is pretty good at locating it with his cock.
Interestingly, Kinkly suggests that exploring your body or doing so with your partner is a way to help overcome xeronisus. As is increasing foreplay. This may be part of the reason I struggled while married.
My ex wasn’t big on foreplay. I’ve written before that he though it involved little more than a quick grope of the tits. What’s more he was in favour of getting his satisfaction and couldn’t understand why I hadn’t already come when he had. I learned to satisfy myself, but had to actually learn how to do that. I came to it all late too.
Master loves foreplay. In fact there may not even be sex at the end. He loves to give me pleasure and to take it for himself. He also likes me to orgasm and to do so a lot.
I wrote last year about Master’s control of my orgasms. After 6 years it is part of my normal life. He has never said I can’t masturbate but I must ask permission to orgasm and to thank him afterwards. When I lived alone (or semi alone) he would often give free rein to come. I used to thank him straight after even if he wasn’t there. Now we live together I don’t masturbate alone.
For some unknown reason I have stopped being able to come on demand. Something that used to happen with ease. I have a hunch the tablets I take to reduce oestrogen levels in my body are the cause, but can’t be sure. Master therefore uses our wand to force them out of me.
Receptive to Change
Over the years I and we have had to change in order to get the best from our relationship and sex life. That includes orgasms and masturbation. I’ve become a much more sexual person over time. Reading erotica and books about power exchange relationships made me want to masturbate and orgasm. The discovery that I knew my own body less than I imagined was a bit of a wake up. Finding out that things that got me off suddenly didn’t have been scary. But I and we have found our way around them and no doubt there will be more learning to come as both our bodies age.
I’ve never experienced xeronisus and hope I never do. But finding the word has made me think about how wonderful orgasms are and how they have changed for me over time.
A theme running through this whole blog is sex. The whole purpose of starting the blog in the first place was to catalogue my journey in both sex and submission. Back in 2012 I had only had intercourse with one man and had never experienced anal sex. I masturbated a lot, but was rarely satisfied. This seems to be something others observe when in unfulfilling relationships.
To begin with there was so much to write about, as I experienced new sensations, physically and emotionally. Later when I met Master I went through them again, and more. I tend not to write in detail about my own sex life any more. Not because there is nothing to write, but because we tend to do the same things. It’s not dull at the time, but would be if I described it. So, instead I’ve started to explore fiction. To take real events, often from my blog and turn them into stories. I plan to do more of that in the future.
Total Power Exchange (TPE) and Sex
Our relationship is classed as a power exchange. I have agreed that he should have total power over me in many areas of my life. I find this means that I have less to worry and concern myself with and that I can leave many decisions to him. When it comes to our sex life this really suits me. I am rubbish at saying what I like and want. I just want someone else to make the decisions, use me and make me to what they want. This isn’t something I knew back at the beginning of this blog. But it has certainly turned out that way.
It is in the bedroom or playroom that I am at my most submissive (as you would imagine). That is where I can leave Julie behind and just be his bitch. He is pretty creative and likes to keep a running commentary going. At the time I often think that this would make a great blog post, but then later can’t remember everything that was said. Maybe I should record it some time!
To be made to kneel and suck his cock when I’ve been thinking about other things helps me get into the right head space. I rarely say no to him. It isn’t that I am the most obedient slave but I tend to be compliant in certain circumstances. When it comes to sex and foreplay as well as the opportunity for bondage and impact play then I most definitely am.
My sex life now is completely different to how it used to be. We are old(wish) and don’t have loads of sex. But when we do it is kinky and very good. Long may it continue.
So much is written about denial. Not being allowed to come is a major part of many D/s dynamics. The need that exists within in the person being denied, and being edged and then denied again. Being forced to orgasm several or even many times is quite something too. Both are about power and control. Of one person over another. This is often what lies at the heart of a Dominance and submission dynamic.
Imagine you are that woman secured to the St Andrew’s cross. The leather cuffs are each lined with soft fabric, and these encase your wrists and ankles. You are attached to the cross by hooks that have been clipped onto the cuffs at each point. Your nipples have been clamped, as has your clitoris. The three are joined by a chain that jangles across your tummy. You have a butt plug in your arse and a dildo inserted into your cunt.
Then imagine you don’t actually know where your tormentor is or how long you have been secured like this. You are blindfolded and have a raunchy madonna track emanating from headphones.
Your senses are confused. On the one hand you are anxious, after all you don’t know what is coming next. But damn it, you are horny. Especially when the dildo starts to move, up and down, in and out of your wet cunt. The sense of social isolation feels weird, you call out, but no one speaks. Instead the music changes, it’s something slower, more sensual. Hold, by Vera. How apt you think. You let the music wrap itself around you after all this is your lover now. The rhythm of the dildo continues, tracing a steady path.
Suddenly it starts. The unmistakable sound of the wand. Buzzing loudly, just detectable over the music. He is there now, in front of you and even though you can’t see him, or feel him yet. You know it.
At first this is just the feeling you need. Direct stimulation on your clitoris that you have needed all along. The pressure from your full vagina and arse has been building and now you feel release just around the corner. You press your cunt onto the bulb of the wand. All the time the dildo slides in and out, but now it feels less tight, more wet. That’s because of the fluid you are producing from inside course. The orgasm rises from deep inside and knowing you’ve agreed that you don’t need to ask for permission that need fills every space. Crying out to the unseen man, “Thank you Sir” you say. He moves the wand away and you wait to be released from your restraints.
But, that isn’t what this sadist is planning. Far from it.
He begins to stroke you. Neck, shoulders, arms, tummy and then around the shaved mound. Finally he strokes your swollen clit and at the same time releases one of the nipple clamps and then sucks hard, giving some warmth and relief. “Come” He says and you just do. Its a surprise because it isn’t what you expected to happen.
Forced to orgasm multiple times
He removes the other two clamps and caresses his property gently then more roughly. Biting your nipples one after the other, while rubbing your sore clit.
The buzzing starts again, just as the music changes. Senses are now at the very edge of pleasure and pain. Again your clit responds, even though you would rather it didn’t. You know your body wants and needs this while at the same time you wish you could run away. The sadist takes 3 more orgasms from that sensitive and painful body, before the dildo stops moving. Gradually and gently he removes the restraints and then carries you over to the nearby bed.
Without the blindfold you can now look him in the eye. He is grinning as he crouches over you, legs astride, your still twitching body. You kiss deeply and passionately.
“My slut” he says. “My wanton beautiful slut” I expect you’ve had enough for now, that you have no need for cock. Your mind screams to over rule your sore and tired body. “Please Sir, yes I do. I need your cock inside my slutty body” He moves your hand to feel his dick, already oozing with pre-cum. Slowly he pushes inside you and begins to thrust in and out. Suddenly you don’t feel as if you have orgasmed at all today. The pressure begins to build, this time around the safety of your owner, the man with the power and control. Once again you are forced to orgasm. You have no control.
The Blogging A-Z for April is back. I think I remember saying last year that 2019 would be my last time, that 4 times is enough. But as they say, never say never and since we are living in strange times I am back for year 5. This year’s theme will be My Archives. And, not happy with writing a post a day, I have decided to write 2. I’m also joining in on Food, Fitness and Health.
I have a category on my blog for pretty much every letter of the alphabet (except X, Y and Z so I’ll probably improvise there). Not that surprising since I’ve been blogging for 9 years this month. So, I’m going to use those archives to write some new material. Last year, I used the archives to look back over my blog, but I’ll try to make this a bit different. I’ve been struggling to write anything kink or sex related recently so hopefully this will be just the kick up the backside I need. Each day, I’ll also write about the categories in the archive that begin with that letter.
For this one post though I want to talk about my archived content. I created this category so that some older posts didn’t get automatically posted onto social media. You know, the kind of posts that are about past relationships. Ones where you wrote material that have aged badly or where you were in the depth of despair. Every time one of those posts popped up on Twitter my heart would miss a beat and I’d go check. That stuff doesn’t need reading, certainly not by me.
So I went through tons of material and categorised it and then set up to exclude those posts on my ‘Revive Old Posts’ widget. I currently have 159 posts in that category and may well need to add more in if I come across more such posts during this event. That doesn’t mean to say that you the reader can’t go and check them out. Of course you can, and people do. Sometimes I do, when looking for a specific event. But as for having them pop up unexpectedly, no thank you.
Last year I contributed a post about Abortion to the Smutathon, an annual weekend of smut writing for charity. There are 3 posts from the Art Twist meme run by the fabulous Indigo Byrd whose blog I miss very much. Finally there are 48 posts about anal sex.
I’m kind of sad to say that anal sex hasn’t been a big part of our life for a while. For a reason I don’t quite understand I find it less pleasurable than I did. I’m not good at wearing the but plug and that might be a reason. But it is certainly something we need to re discover. Maybe then I’ll be able to write about anal sex more.
Come back tomorrow for B and hopefully a more sexy post!
This story is loosely based on fact. I really was fucked on a picnic table in the woods while wearing a leather collar and leash. But the rest of it is part of my fantasy of what might have happened that day. Content warning: Consent Non-consent (CNC), Humiliation.
A story of being fucked on a picnic table
If ever you go into the woods and stumble across a picnic table, do you wonder who was there before you? What might have happened here? And before you sit down and unwrap the sandwiches you might want to get out the wet wipes, because maybe the last people here fucked on that picnic table.
We met in the car park. As instructed I was wearing a summer dress, sensible shoes and nothing else. Although it was only around 10am the sun was high in the sky and it was warm. In those days I was yet to acquire a car with air conditioning, the open windows did nothing to cool my throbbing cunt. Anticipation rather than heat was at work here. You see, I had no idea what was in store for me. The man I was meeting was very keen on fantasy games and I was his willing victim.
I travelled light, apart from the lack of clothing I only carried a small bag, containing my purse and other essentials. Stuff you don’t really need in the woods (my phone maybe, but signals were poor). He carried a largish rucksack, containing lunch and who knew what else. Not me at that point anyway. He took my bag and put it inside his.
Of course he felt me up in the car park, in front of anyone who happened by, though I can’t remember if any one did. We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks and we had the hots for each other. I might have fucked there and then if he had requested it. He put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash, there in the middle of the car park. Then he walked me into the dense woodland and once inside, blindfolded me.
Completely dependent on him I followed his instructions about where to step. Periodically the leash would pull tight and I’d almost stumble. But as instructed I was silent. Concentrating on the sounds and smells of the forest. I had no idea if others were around us and was both humiliated and excited at this sign of my submission. I lingered on the edge of orgasm, made worse as my cunt leaked fluid that caused my thighs to slide together as I walked. I momentarily wondered if I would be permitted an orgasm today.
Suddenly he told me to drop to my knees, as I did so the collar pulled tight against my neck. I assumed the required pose, my knees wide, hands resting loosely on them. I heard some rustling and knew what was in store. Obediently I opened my mouth to take the cock that was thrust into it. I savoured the saltiness of his pre-cum and the very size of what filled my mouth.
“Good cunt” he groaned at me. I concentrated on sucking, my mouth wide and drool already running down my chin. His fingers reached inside my summer dress and pinched my left nipple. “take me girl, take this cock” He said as I felt a sharp pain, a clamp now pinched my breast. I groaned around the huge dick filling my mouth and tensed as pain throbbed through both breasts. For a while I was lost giving him the pleasure he demanded.
He pulled away and pulled me to my feet. His fingers groping for my clit, large and engorged, before pushing two into my dripping cunt. “you are such a wanton slut aren’t you” he asked. I nodded, because it was true. I was and am. “what do you want slut?” he asked. “speak”.
“Your cock Sir”
“Come” he gently pulled on the leash and I followed. My knees knocked into something hard and putting my hands out I felt wood. I ran my hands over the grain. “It’s a picnic table” I could hear him grinning. “We can have lunch here, but first, I’m going to fuck you on it.
Sir Helped me kneel on the seat and then to lean over it. He secured rope around my wrists and tied me to the table. I was now unable to move, though had no desire to do so. I felt his cock pushing into my soaking cunt as I lay secured to the table top. My knees were grazed a little by the wood. My nipples, with the clamps still attached sending ripples of pain through my body. He took his pleasure from me. A wanton slut, blindfolded and collared. Unaware that behind her there were 3 men watching and wanking.
Because as well as taking care about the cleanliness of a picnic table, you should also beware of mentioning your fantasies. Such as the one about being fucked in the woods while others watch.
You know, hindsight is a wonderful thing. If we could see our future selves we would probably do many things differently. Make decisions that didn’t take us down a fateful path. Or maybe we would. Perhaps that is what human nature is all about; learning by our mistakes.
I suggested the prompt regrets / benefit of hindsight when preparing to write this post. I’m not linking to the stuff about my ex, but it is contained here in this blog. In the early years of writing here I poured my heart out. Since I couldn’t tell anyone in real life about most of it, this was my haven. A nonjudgmental place to be myself. I received support from strangers along the way and found my way to the place I needed to be.
My ex and I are about to finally be divorced and I’m sure no one ever ended their marriage without some level of regret. We were married for over 30 years and I loved him. I will never regret that part of my life but with the benefit of hindsight I know I should have got out sooner. However there are reasons not to regret my decisions.
The things that have happened to me since just before my 50th birthday have been amazing. I was sexually repressed and my knowledge came from books and the internet. Since then, my learning curve has been steep and experiences varied. Master always says that he is glad that S got me ready for him. And, it is true he did. S helped me learn about my sexual needs and how to enjoy sex. He also brought out my submissive side, even if it scared the hell out of him. I took a massive risk the day I headed off to a hotel to meet S, but it turned out well and directly led to me meeting Master.
The time was right for us both. He was in another relationship, but in hindsight that was on its last legs. I needed a push to move on both from S and my ex. We came together at the right time and helped each other through the emotions that ensued. He asked me to be his slave just when I had decided that was what I wanted.
Sex with Master is the best I’ve had. He is the most considerate love I have had and always puts my needs first.
I believe that things happen for a reason. We met when the time was right and for that reason I don’t regret staying in my marriage when I should have got the hell out.
In so many ways I am good at exercising self control. I’m good at lists and planning and sometimes I can even stick to the plan. I don’t get easily annoyed, well not these days because it feels less necessary. I can also stick to a diet plan, avoid sweet things and alcohol until I just can’t. My self control is not infinite and at some point I will blow. My planning is not so good that I have stopped procrastinating. I guess though it’s part of being human.
Plan but don’t do
Now that I’m not working (most of the time) the days have little structure. Unless I create it. Using my planner helps especially if I decide I’ll write a blog post as 12, practice my French on Duolingo at 2 and then go to the shops etc. But often I’ll write a list of things to do and then transfer them to tomorrow’s plan. I’m good at spending time doing very little. But if I know there’s a deadline then I can exercise the necessary self control to get them done.
I’d tell you that this is new, but my to do lists at work were treated the same way. Items were often transferred and then I’d be chasing a deadline. I kind of need that to get my adrenaline flowing. But I am worse now, so at least once a week I make myself go into my little office, sit at my desk and produce the things listed in my planner. Tomorrow will be one of those days.
People and things irritate me
Not everyone and everything, though sometimes that is the case. I get less irritated these days. Partly because I don’t have to go to meetings and sit in rooms with people who state the obvious. Or who haven’t done what they said they’d do. Nor do I live with a man who lies to me and uses emotional blackmail to get me to do what he wants. Thankfully I extracted myself from that situation. But also I no longer allow myself to let people wind me up in the way I did. I walk away rather than confront. I also say no when I always said yes.
Age is of great benefit in being able to sort what is important from what is not. People upset you without knowing and even if they do know then how we deal with them is important. Retaliation is satisfying in the moment, but the feelings don’t last. So, maybe just walk away. This is important with social media because there are just too many people out there looking for a fight.
Control of what goes into my mouth
I have very publicly stated on here that I am in the process of losing weight. It’s been a goal for years, but I haven’t actually achieved it. However knowing I want to get my cleavage back in place is now the driver. I need a healthier BMI for surgery and so I am losing weight. Most days I exercise very good self control. The food and drink going into my mouth is healthy, light on carbs and doesn’t contain sugar. But there are days and Friday was one of them that I decide to have wine with lunch and then seem unable to control myself. Thankfully those days are fewer and the weight is gradually coming off. At least I have insight and so am able to make changes. Also I know that life would be very dull if I exercised that level of self control all the time.
The photo below was taken late on Friday night. We had both been middle aged adults behaving badly all day. We’d had too much to drink but no one was harmed and at the end we had a few nice photos for February Photofest and Sinful Sunday. What I’m saying is some good can come from letting your hair down once in a while and letting the control drift away. So long as you pick it up again the next day.