Is it possible...

... to be blissfully content, yet sad, at the same time?

I am.

Had a wonderful, intense and emotionally cleansing evening with New Guy. But now I won't see him again until Monday, June 13. That means the next three Mondays will be New Guy-less. He's going away on a long trip across several states to visit family. Part flying, part road trip.

I will miss him.

Today was one of those days. Nothing wrong, just me feeling cranky. Everyone was annoying. Went to the gym... everywhere I went, there were big macho idiots slamming huge weights onto the floor and making such hideous noises, I kept thinking I was going to hear a baby scream any minute because surely they were giving birth. I went to the dumbbell station where they have the smaller ones -- there was a single 8-pound, 10-pound and 12-pound dumbbell. WTF happened to their mates? What was I supposed to do with one dumbbell? Argh.

Finally found a couple of matched pairs (had to wander around a bit; naturally, people used them and didn't return them to their proper spot) and went to the spot where I usually do my arms... someone was there already. So I went somewhere else, and shortly into my reps, a guy came over and started working just a couple of feet from me... and he stank. Christ. The things one has to go through to stay in shape. Somehow, I managed to finish what I was doing without gifting the gym carpet with my breakfast.

Back home, this dreadful woman on FetLife was spewing opinionated drivel right and left, long sanctimonious diatribes about how it's WRONG for spanking parties to allow the "pros" (the quotes were hers) to do pay sessions there. What freaking business is it of hers if people do pay sessions in the privacy of their hotel rooms? Nearly everyone was disagreeing with her -- one woman actually told her "Mind your own business, Church Lady." Ha! But even that didn't shut her up; just kept up her blathering, insisting she had a right to her two cents. So I posted, "Who says money doesn't buy what it used to? Look at all the BS we got for just two cents." She didn't respond to that... yet. I'm sure she'll come up with a lengthy rebuttal when she's drinking her brew tomorrow morning.

I'm telling you, people get on my nerves. I was more than ready for New Guy this evening. It didn't take him more than five minutes to discover I was brimming with attitude and he had his work cut out for him.

Even my panties were cranky.

Look closely. Can you see what's written on them? :-)

Of course, they didn't stay on very long.

Why do tops ask, "Did that hurt?" Don't they know? Can't they tell? Do we have to spell everything out for them, for heaven's sake? :-Þ

It was a very long scene, a lot of implements. Everything is a blur -- I just know it hurt (yes, it hurt, NG). And I welcomed it. I was fuming at first, but I wasn't angry at him, just crabby in general. He knew it, and he kept pushing. Listened to my sounds changing, going from bitching to screaming into the cushion to ultimately whimpering. The final ten with the wooden paddle brought the tears.

He goes from tough to tender in a matter of seconds. I love that.

I kept my head buried for a long time as he held me. I felt foolish, but I couldn't stop the tears from dribbling. Now that the hard shell was broken and I was feeling vulnerable, the thought of three weeks without him felt overwhelming. Silly of me. Such a baby. But I couldn't help it.

Later after I'd recovered, somehow I ended up back over his lap. Seems he took exception to something or another I said; fancy that. Oh, I remember -- he was eating Hershey's Nuggets and throwing the wrappers on the carpet. I asked him if he was raised in a barn.

"I would think you'd be sore by now," he teased. "What makes you think I'm not?" I snapped. Hummph. Like it would make a damn bit of difference whether I were sore or not??

The second scene was even more intense than the first. Guess we had to go for it; after all, it has to tide us over for three weeks.

My computer chair does not feel very pleasant right now; I'm sitting slumped way down, leaning back with just my tailbone and upper cheeks resting in the seat. Absolutely horrible posture... oh well. No one can see me. Good thing, as my hair is a wild tangle and I have mascara smeared under my eyes. And this goofy grin on my face, even though I have a lump in my throat as well.

I really am a piece of work. I don't expect anyone to understand me; I don't understand myself half the time. But I sure do appreciate the love. :-)

Sooooo... in the next three weeks, I will focus on getting my book done. I'm so close now, final stretch. Two weeks from this coming Saturday, I will have Spanking Court again. And then poof, before I know it, New Guy will be back. 

And he's already told me when he comes back, boy, am I gonna get it.

Promise?

I'll like two of those, please

Ever feel like this? And ever feel like you don't have any right to complain about it, because everyone else is dealing with their own troubles and they don't want to hear you whine?

I'm not sure what's gotten into me lately, but I'm all over the map. Could be the ongoing emotional fallout from all the weeks of worrying about John. Could be worry about John's future. Could be the onset of the holidays. Could be hormones. Maybe it's all of the above.

Today, I started out sleepy and dragging. Later, as I sat working, one of those melodramatic weepy songs came on the oldies station... and I promptly and unexpectedly burst into tears. After that, I went into my bedroom, pulled the shades and closed the door, and burrowed for an hour. When I got up, I had this crazy urge to go to the self-service yogurt bar and gorge myself silly with creamy caloric sweetness. Waited that out, thank goodness. Then I went on FetLife and saw a disgusting photo, and felt incredibly, righteously pissed off. Now I feel like I want to jump out of my skin, but I need to compose myself, because I'm not going to endear anyone in this sort of mood. And John's going to call shortly and I don't want to worry him.

Sheesh! What's it like to be an even-keeled person?

A friend on Fet suggested that perhaps I need a spanking. Well, duh. That's a given. I always need that. :-)  But it's a Band-Aid, a temporary distraction. It calms me down and centers me for a while, until the effect fades and then I'm back into bitchiness and angst. Damn -- I'm addicted! That's it! I'm suffering withdrawal this week!

OK, I'm being silly. But I wish I knew what the hell is going on with me. Last Friday, I remember feeling quite serene, like all was well with my world. Nothing has changed since then; where did that good feeling go?

And yes, I do feel like I don't have the right to grouse. Everyone I know is dealing with something or another. Everyone has pain and anxiety to some degree. Everyone has stress. So what does one do? Air and share? Shut the hell up and deal with it? Admit one's humanity, self-centerness and imperfection, one's struggles, or go do something else until the mood passes? Some people ignore their own needs and give to others... but then who gives to them? Where's the right balance?

I often use humor to deflect my struggles; I suppose that is a tool I inherited from my father. Someone recently described me as brave. I don't feel brave. I feel like a loony tune with precious little coping skills. But hey, I'm a damn funny loony tune.

I may very well regret the vulnerability and "me-ness" of this post. But sometimes, folks, this is where I am. I apologize.

So where are my pills? And can you give me enough to get me through until January 2?