I rearranged the bedroom to work off some energy. I’ve been wanting to do it for quite some time, so that worked out well – except – the movers busted our headboard last time we moved, and now, it really needs to be replaced. At least the furniture is all moved. All I gotta do is go in and clean up after C. He has crap everywhere. I’m a slob who married a slob. This is not good.

All the books tell you that your bedroom should be comfortable and a sanctuary from normal every day life. But because it’s messy, I have a hard time relaxing in there. I’m going to have to work on that.

For people who don’t know me well, I’m a control freak. One of the things that attracted me to dominance and submission is the pretext that it would give me the ability to let some of that control go, but because of how things are right now with C and the boat, there’s very very little remotely d/s-y stuff going on around here and I’m feeling that control freak come front and fucking center. It’s not really anyone’s fault I guess. It’s just the way things are right now.

I gotta tell you, I’m really damn tired of saying that.

Since this is leading there anyway, I’ll just touch on what I wanted to write about bondage awhile back. For me, bondage is the ultimate release from responsibility. I feel so ultimately responsible for so many things that really are not my responsibility anyway, that for the short/long time I’m in bondage, that all goes away – the real responsibility and the imagined responsibility. I don’t have a choice; I have to cut it loose. Slap a set of cuffs on me once in awhile and tell me not to move – hey – I’m good. The headspace that goes along with bondage for me is so fucking relaxing and freeing. It just lets me BE. Not BE working, not BE thinking, not BE cleaning – just BE. Add a little overt dominance to that and I’m floating somewhere up in my “inner real self” and loving life. Thing is, it just doesn’t happen right now. There are too many things that take precedence over it. It’s so far down the list that I think it might have fallen completely off the list.

Jokingly last night (I think), C called me a cranky bitch. Yea, I am cranky sometimes. It’s because I’m stressed. And I’m stressed because there are too many things – real and imagined – that I’m responsible for that are not going the way I want them to. The whole thing is one vicious fucking circle and I feel like we’re on the merry-go-round from hell. Between the boat, my grandfather having surgery last week, my sister the total bitch from hell, not working, not being able to write two sentences fiction and string them together, paying my taxes and not being able to control things in general, I just can’t seem to find two minutes of consistent peace anymore. Everything is pressure. I feel some days like I’m going to implode. LA reminded me to go to Tri-Care and get my Xanax prescription refilled. I really need to do that. I hate hate hate medicating myself out of these moods, but sometimes, I feel like it’s my last and best option. I have one Xanax left. I’m going to try to get in there this week, after I apply for unemployment and get my social security card changed. I’ve got to start getting this piddly shit done. Maybe it’ll help.

I’m going to go watch brain dead TV. Maybe that’ll help, too.