This is more a state of the union brain dump type thing than any kink specific. Feel free to skip if so inclined.
So the house is ready for sale. We have no idea where we’re going but after months of debate and work it’s ready. Are we moving into our current city? Central West End, Webster, Clayton, or elsewhere? Maybe. Are we moving half way across the country? That’s a definite possibility with Dallas in the lead. The only thing we know is that for the Malflic clan the next stop is going to be a city neighborhood of some type and if given a choice a loft or repurposed space rather than a “traditional” home.
My professional life has hit a record pace for recent years both my day job and side ventures all demanding more and more of my time. Add in to the mix looking at new opportunities at a quickening pace and it gets even more complicated. There was a line in the movie “Get Him to the Greek” that went something like “You can turn anything in to heroin.” In the movie it was a reference to an incessant yoga practice. In my case it always has been and seems like it always will be work. That’s where I go to hide when the wheels come off the bus. This time the wheels maybe coming off for a variety of reasons from industry changes to personal changes (Diva moved home from college, Lil who was a Freshman in High School has left the usual route and is now in a combination of Online high School, Home School, and soon to be Dual enrolled in college), and then there is the Blonde and me who are trying to adjust to the new normal; whatever the fuck that is. So I’m back to my drugs of choice caffeine, work, and insomnia, and hopefully regular work outs. At the end of the day I’m happiest when overrun with professional obligations. This week it’s 5 cities in 3 days. When more people want my time than I can handle I’m at my best. Sure it’s a false high but it keeps me moving, and distracted.
But on the upside….
I had dinner with an old friend who is now a regular stop in my life. The relationship is different and she hasn’t taken the place of my Favorite Sexy Little Brunette who I still miss more than I ever expected. Actually I miss others in that city, the routine, the sense of having a place to go a few times a month where I was just one of the guys. Add to that I may get to spend a little time with other friends this coming weekend. Then add in a few parties thrown by friends, and Lil’s B day and the week gets even fuller.
Then there is the anxiety …
Anxiety? Yes I worry about the craziest things. Do I obsess with serious issues? Hardly I’m cold, calculated, and solid as a rock so bring it on mother fucker. Instead it’s the seemingly meaningless things I make myself crazy over. Eroticon USA is only a few weeks away. Am I worried about meeting people? Nope, I’m really looking forward to it. Am I worried about the content, the travel, or some other thing that might be a legitimate concern? Not at all. LR and I have gone the agenda, mapped out our interests. What I’m worried about is what to wear. Stupid right? Yeah I know. I feel like a teenager planning for a date. What is casual? Will look like a pretentious dick if I wear a sport coat? Or a slob if I wear jeans? I know, I know, first world problems. Here’s my prediction. I’ll over pack and decide at the last minute. And I hear there is an over under bet on whether I’ll pack more footwear than some of the ladies. If I were you’d I’d take me and the over since I know I’m packing wing tips, black boots (a guy has to have proper footwear to be mean), casual dress shoes, flip flips, and sneakers. And we won’t even begin to discuss my obsession over what to put in the toy bag that has been packed several times.
The Bizarre Things…
This one is a little weird; even for me. Perhaps it’s a byproduct of too much vanilla sex and a lack or kink. Maybe it’s some sick, completely disruptive, mid life crisis. I did just have another birthday and my lifestyle alone says I’m roughly 2/3rds of the way done. See I may not need Viagra but despite that I’m having a really hard time objectifying you…in a general sense of course. I find myself looking at people, relationships, and things and getting into the right head space just isn’t happening. I want to do bizarre things by my standards, things that strike me as odd because they would be perfectly acceptable. I do not like this and need to fix it immediately. Maybe a good week long bender, a nice pervert shopping spree, and a little play time would put everything right with the world again. One can only hope because if I keep looking at strangers and not wondering if they’re kinky the world is going to be really fucked up. God knows I hate main stream porn!
There are people I want to spend more time with but haven’t asked, people I’d love to play with but haven’t even tried to schedule, stories I want to write but can’t seem to finish.
To show you how off I am I posted a picture of a Key Lime Martini a week ago for Sinful Sunday; while a wonderful drink it was the following Saturday before I realized how to close to my default safe word of “Key Lime Pie” with many of my play partners it was. Wrong head space completely.