Hectic

The chaos is starting to get to me. Hell, it’s getting to everyone. We’re starting to pick at each other.

The house is newly constructed, not quite finished. My dad, who frequently does home remodeling, was hired by Master to finish the lower level, which was a huge, bare, open space. My dad is framing it in, from drywall to completion, for the kids bedrooms, family room, computer room, etc. Half of the lower level was already done, half being one bathroom, one bedroom and the laundry/utility room. The upper level was also already finished – master bed and bath, kitchen/dining room, living room, office, main bathroom.

My parents are staying in the lower level bedroom/bath. The kids are all camped out in the living room. The kids are staying up all night watching tv, messing around online. It’s one big slumber party for them. Master (and I) get up at 5am. Tempers are being tested. The lack of privacy and lack of personal space is grating on nerves.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that today, my mom and I (and the kids) can start painting in some of the rooms on the lower level. Once the painting is done, the carpet can get in. Once the carpet is in, it’s ready for furniture. Then it’s done. Then my parents go home. Then the kids move into their own damn rooms and out of my living room. Then Master and I can have wild monkey sex without worrying about either the kids OR my parents hearing.

This weekend we have to go back to the old house and get the rest of our stuff and clean up. We’re going to rent it out for now. For some reason, the idea of other people living in “my” house isn’t sitting well. It makes me … I dunno what. Not mad, but something.

The kids start school Tuesday. They’re looking forward to it. They went from a school with around 2,000 students to a school that has around 400 students. And my girls don’t have to take P.E. This is huge news to girls. P.E. is the worst class for prissy princess girls like mine. No P.E., an offered creative writing course for Am that the other school didn’t have, Jes has most of her required courses done so she’s skating through on mostly easy electives, smaller classes – the kids are damn near giddy. Of course B-man asked to take P.E., and got to, so he’s happy. Gym class over a class with actual homework? Hell yeah!

So next week – no more chaos. I can’t wait.

I will never get caught up on everyone. :-(

~cunt

The view from the back deck. Isolated much?

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Real quick

I just wanted to leave a quick note so y’all don’t think I’m abandoning the blog.

Things are still just super busy. And my parents are here visiting and helping with some construction projects so access to kink is nil. We’re slowly getting settled in, just about all that’s left is what’s being held up with the construction. School starts next week and my parents will be home by then so I expect things to settle back into a routine of some sort (I hope. Lordie I miss routine and structure!) and maybe I’ll even have some filth to share (I hope. I miss the filth even more!)

For now, the D/s undercurrent is strong. Smooth and easy. I like that. Even without the time, energy or opportunity for heavy scenes and raunchy sex, things feel comfortable and right.

Just a little bit longer and it’ll all be back to normal.

~cunt

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Moving.

Moving sucks serious ass.

The house is gorgeous. Three times the size of the other house. I am in Suzy Homemaker heaven.

The land is beautiful, too. The dog, who literally has months left, (Months, at best but weeks is probably more accurate. His arthritis isn’t responding to treatment at all.) is loving this endless land to roam. We debated on whether or not to put him down before we moved but I really wanted him to be out here with us for a little while. I can’t imagine a nicer place for a dog to spend his last bit of time. I sat in the vet’s office a few weeks ago trying to be all adult about the matter of putting the dog down, and failing miserably I might add, because there just is no sure way to tell what amount of pain he’s in vs. his quality of life. I wanted the vet to give me a straight answer but there just isn’t one.

Master has had the dog longer than He’s had me. He’s raised him since he was a puppy. He is not handling this any better than I am. The plan is to spoil the dog as much as possible in whatever time he has left. :-(

The cats are faring well. They’re intent on exploring every nook and cranny. One of them pissed on the dog’s bed. *snicker* I don’t know what he did to piss them off. ;-)

Master bought a luxurious (and expensive!) bedroom suite. I think the ‘cunt in a cage’ is being traded in for a ‘cunt in a gilded birdcage’. And I am not complaining. No Sirree Bob. The kids are no less excited than I am. This was a good decision, I think.

Anyway, Master’s up and yakking my ear off so back to the boxes I go.

~cunt

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Later Taters! …………… psych!

I’m not quitting. Yet. I guess it’s not “time”. But that’s okay. I’m not disappointed or anything. I’d miss it anyway. Sometimes I just think I know everything I need to know and then I find out I don’t know jack about shit. ;-)

I do think that this might be my last post until we get moved and settled in, though. I am one busy stressed out biatch these days. Master has a lot more faith in me than I do, that’s for sure. Everytime He calls and I try to warn Him that I may not have everything done that He’s told me to have done, He only replies with a very confident “You’ll do it, cunt” and moves on to other subjects.

So. I guess I’ll have it done. Somehow.

So far I’ve sorted through every drawer, closet, box, corner, cupboard, bin and shed on this property, and sorted it into a keep or sell pile. I’m supposed to have a moving/rummage sale before He gets home. Every phone call is filled with me asking if He wants to keep or sell some item. And because I’m a dumbass and didn’t price any of the stuff as I sorted it, I’ve had to pull each item out again and mark it. I’ve got two days left before the sale and I’m about 1/2 done with the pricing.

Plus there is the normal everyday stuff that doesn’t go away no matter what. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, the garden (which just makes me cry to leave. *sniffle*), kids, animals, etc., etc. And I want to get all the school shopping done here so I’m not having to do that in a new town. I know where everything is here. Finally – and just in time to leave it.

About 2 days after the sale, He’ll be home and then we’re out of here. Know what I have packed? Nothing!

I’m about to the point of renting a dumpster and tossing it all. Think He’d notice?

But I’ll get it done. I have to. He said so.

The kids are doing well. They seem to be looking forward to the move. I took the girls to the salon and got their hair did. Jes went honey blonde, Am went a really gorgeous deep brown/red. And I sat there watching, and really really wanting to get my hair done. To do something different, something spur of the moment, like a short bob with blonde highlights or fire-engine red with a curly perm or even jet black with spikey layers. I used to change my hair color and style pretty frequently. Of course the girls don’t help with their badgering “come on, mom. do it. just do it” But, *dramatic sigh*, it is what it is. And what it is, is not my hair. This boring, straight, long brown mess is what He likes, what He’s grown it into, and that’s that. Strange, the things that drive home the point of being owned in the course of a day, huh?

Something else that occured to me as I stood there among the hip stylists and self-consciously fingered my plain ol’ ponytail was just how much time I spend disliking this bit of me that He loves. How often I complain about it being in my eyes, or getting snarled around my collar, or yelping because He accidentally catches it and pulls it. How I try to weasel my way into a lighter, and easier style, by asking, not for a cut because that’s forbidden, but for layers or to have it thinned.

I just need to stop. It’s really not that hard. He likes it. It’s long and thick and unruly and incredibly not hip. But it’s exactly what He wants.

Just as having the house packed is what He wants. So off I go.

Y’all take care. I’ll bbl. :-)

~cunt

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