BF: [thrashing]
Me: Sweetie, are you having a bad dream?
BF: [Grunt.]
Me: What happened?
BF: I don't want to tell you because it's kind of unpleasant.
Me: I think I can handle it - was it about exes or a tragedy or something?
BF: No, I don't want to go into it.
Me: Why? Was it about us?
BF: No, I just don't want to talk about it.
Me: Why not? Is everything okay?
BF: [Sigh] Okay, well, it involved a spider...
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Jersey girl charm, first hand
I'm staying at my boyfriend's house this week, to compensate for not being able to see him last weekend or next weekend. We're doing the mid-week compromise.
Only my Mondays suck.
I want so badly to say they suck balls but that is profoundly unladylike, and even though the Jersey girl in me wants to not give a damn, even that connotes a visual a bit too strong for my comfort. Not only do I not want to make anyone picture me sucking balls, I don't even want to picture it. But I digress.
So it fucking sucked.
My day starts at 7am and ends around 9pm because I like to torture myself. I voluntarily participate in a 2-hour women's group after work which I love but the sessions are usually so intense I'll spend the rest of the commute home with my head wrapped around the night's discussion.
My boyfriend greeted me in the parking lot, sweet guy that he is. I had asked him to help me bring some things in when I arrived.
"Here, hold this please? Oh and by the way no sex tonight. I'm ragged." I breezed past him with a new throw pillow. "Thanks! Oh and I'm hungry!"
Just kidding, I didn't say it exactly like that. I'm not THAT much of a bitch. But I did actually need a way to convey my needs. Half of life is expectation management.
Because I was wound up, I needed to unwind. Normal people unwind by watching TV or meditating or maybe taking a hot shower. Not me. I have to clean. Like, overhaul. I can't just rinse a few dishes and lightly dust. I need to tuck in like I'm leaving town for a year.
Mission finally accomplished, I sidled sweetly up to my honey. Once calm, I can be good company. I just have to have a long and rigid set of needs met first. Jersey girls know how to charm!
Only my Mondays suck.
I want so badly to say they suck balls but that is profoundly unladylike, and even though the Jersey girl in me wants to not give a damn, even that connotes a visual a bit too strong for my comfort. Not only do I not want to make anyone picture me sucking balls, I don't even want to picture it. But I digress.
So it fucking sucked.
My day starts at 7am and ends around 9pm because I like to torture myself. I voluntarily participate in a 2-hour women's group after work which I love but the sessions are usually so intense I'll spend the rest of the commute home with my head wrapped around the night's discussion.
My boyfriend greeted me in the parking lot, sweet guy that he is. I had asked him to help me bring some things in when I arrived.
"Here, hold this please? Oh and by the way no sex tonight. I'm ragged." I breezed past him with a new throw pillow. "Thanks! Oh and I'm hungry!"
Just kidding, I didn't say it exactly like that. I'm not THAT much of a bitch. But I did actually need a way to convey my needs. Half of life is expectation management.
Because I was wound up, I needed to unwind. Normal people unwind by watching TV or meditating or maybe taking a hot shower. Not me. I have to clean. Like, overhaul. I can't just rinse a few dishes and lightly dust. I need to tuck in like I'm leaving town for a year.
Mission finally accomplished, I sidled sweetly up to my honey. Once calm, I can be good company. I just have to have a long and rigid set of needs met first. Jersey girls know how to charm!
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