Life Stuff aka Good Thing?Bad Thing?

It’s Friday as i write this.

Black Friday.

Which pretty much sums  up my mood for the last several days.

Thanksgiving…ah. Well, glad it’s over this year.

So …the afternoon before Thanksgiving i find out that Master and i can’t meet today.  And i’m bummed, and how the hell can i show it?

And then my sister showed up, early. Not to help, nope. She just sat. And talked. And talked. And talked.  i try to stuff the annoyance down, and then…well…you know how that goes. Not really” stuffed away”, and when people finally got under my skin, i became a snarky bitch.

But i knew a great deal of it came from the frustration of not getting to be with Master. And honestly? My family drives me nuts at times. Everyone talks nonstop. No quiet. No recharge time. It makes me insane. I like a bit of quiet now and again. And if i leave the room, they fucking follow me.

If it was important stuff, fine. But why the fuck do i care about a funny facebook story about people i don’t know? Or about tv stars. My sis is obsessed with tv, and quotes lines from shows from our youth; an avid reader of People Magazine, and all the rest of those holly wood rags.

Sorry if that sounds elitist, and i’ve nothing against them per se. But for gosh sakes, be able to carry on a conversation about more than who is dating whom in Hollywood.

Again…why the fuck to do i care?

So i was cranky. And yoga helped, though i was accused of being snarky when i got home…because they (wife, sis) started yakking the second i came in the house.

Like..Oh. My. Fucking. GAWD…do you people ever shut the fuck up??

So i texted Master through the afternoon, easing out of snarky bitch mode, and into sub mode from time to time. And we had a nice long chat on my drive back home from yoga.

And i got a “freestyle” orgasm from Master because He’s not happy about the change in date either.

We eased into Thanksgiving, and the day itself was okay. Once i give up voicing opinions, and just do what wife wants, things flow (has a familiar ring to it, doesn’t it?) a bit smoother. Got the food prepped and the rest of the family shows up and the meal is happy and funny and good.

We eat early as my dad likes to hit the road before full dark falls. So by early evening, everyone is gone, things calm down, and the kids and wife and i sit and watch a Christmas special (ice age) together. They were thrilled to stay up late, and i was happy to just sit and not have anyone needing me for 30 minutes!

And now my family is off to visit the MIL today, and wife suggested i stay home. It was a nice gesture (at last), since i’ve been dealing with a sinus/ear infection all week. And that way she and my MIL can talk about me without my being there. *smiles* Such is life.

The house is blessedly quiet.

I’ve gotten vanilla chores done which is a great feeling, and it’s almost time for lunch.

OH, i forgot the part about the text last night. The Man had gone to bed, and i was up and angsty and SENT him a text …sigh. I guess He needs the bad with the good, and He replied this morning that we needed to talk about my latest round of insecurity.

And really, after a good nights sleep, i was feeling much better.

And he texted me this morning and said He was free to talk, and to call Him.

What a delightful treat. And we chatted for a few minutes, and He got the feel of me, digging into the heart of my upset (which wasn’t about Him at all), and pushing it out of me.

And then He  had me laughing.

“Good, you’re better now, aren’t you, slut?”

And of course, i was. Hadn’t realized how much i needed Him, just that touch in my ear of Him.

He asked about the rest of my day, joking about “cindernilla” chore, as He references my life sometimes. And i did have one ‘cn’ chore to get done, but it was almost done when we talked.

And i told Him that i was going to spend a big chunk of the afternoon writing in the peace of my house.

“Oh, good.” He says.

“Get your small buttplug and wear it while you write.”

*silence*

And then i giggle. In what other place and time could i be so totally “healed” and loved and cared for than this one? Where wearing an ass-plug reconnects me to my submission, allows me to fall into that still, quiet place inside, and serve?

And really, isn’t this the best place to be?

*smiles*

**addendum**

i never did get to write. The cindernilla chore took waaay longer than anticipated, and then that led to another project, and another. You know how that goes sometimes.

But it was quiet and nice.

Talking to the Man later that night, He asked if i’d written at all during the day.

“no, Master, i didn’t.”

“So, no ass plug.” (This is a statement, spoken in that true deadpan way He has at times.  i can almost hear Him thinking.)

“no Master, no plug”

“Ah.”

Long pause.

“Are you writing tonight?”

“yes Master. Do i still need the plug?” i ask hopefully.

“Did you think you were going to avoid it by writing later in the evening?”

“no, not at all Master. You said to wear the plug if i wrote during the day.”

“Is it still today, nilla?”

“um. yes Master, it’s still today.”

“Then what do you think? Of course you need the ass plug. If you write now. Or, since I’m thinking of it, if you write at midnight, or wake up with a good story at 2 a.m., or up to 7 a.m. Does that cover it for you, little girl?”

“Yes Master.”

And indeed it did. Wrote my novel, and the bulk of this post with that plug firmly entrenched.

And just for the record…i was NOT trying to avoid the plug.

Actually, i kinda like it.

But don’t tell Him i said that!