Mondays

 

Maybe I should hire myself for a session. I know precisely the right combination of discipline, encouragement, threats and praise I need to get things done. I raised my rates recently though, I'm not sure that I can afford me. Then again, I happen to know Mistress Cassidy is totes a ho for promises of adventures, maybe I can barter myself some motivation. 

That was Thursday. Why do I even try on Thursday? It's already too full without trying to squeeze words in too. 

It's Monday now. I fucking love Mondays. Explained it to someone again last week. I live a pretty charmed life, and the more I acknowledge that the more magic I invite in.  But even my charmed life has moments that just blow. Like waking up to Fiona's upset tummy, or a sticky countertop, or forgetting to gas the car before the day that's too full. You won't hear me bemoaning these things often, I am not interested in inviting that energy to linger; but sometimes even my week just goes to shit. Weekends typically offer a moment to vent these frustrations. Sometimes I even find the time to fix whatever fell short during the week, and I appreciate those opportunities. Mondays though are fresh and new. The future starts on a Monday, and the future is now. 

This Monday, today, I found myself at the dog park with Fiona. She's finafuckingly chilling a little bit on trying to challenge dogs 10 times her size. Fiona was chill, the sun was shining and I was editing xxx pictures I took last night for OnlyFans.

I love this timeline the most.  

Wednesday I was in Black Cape Bondage. (I was at the hairdresser, for those that don't speak Cassidy.) My favorite magician asked about my New York trip from a month ago. So I told her that it was amazing, that we had so much fun. That I found myself in the back of an Uber, more intoxicated than I intended, texting my Top that I love him, on my way back to my hotel in Times Square, at 4 a.m. on a Monday morning. 

I'm grounded from alcohol until further notice, but it was so worth it. 

Yesterday, before the xxx picture shoot, my- I have to pause here. My what? I want to call her My (redacted) Girlfriend. I have her consent to call her anything, but I think that was just in private. She read me poetry. She read me poetry that she wrote. She read me poetry that she wrote that references me. She read me poetry that she wrote the references me, and she thanked me. You have no idea how fucking wet I got. I mean unless you subscribe to my OF.  

Just a reference, it wasn't about me. Not everything is about me, or so I've been told. Still, she read me poetry. 

Does it matter what I call her? 

I want to say it doesn't, a rose by any other name and all that.  It matters though. Terms, titles, I want to convey how much she means to me.  

 And also, without a term it might get confusing when I reference other undefined Loves of Note.