Home > Discussion, rayne > What about…?

What about…?

August 14th, 2007

My father’s coming to visit tomorrow, and I almost asked to be allowed to skip my tasks so I could get the house in order.  But I usually like blogging, even when I can’t think of anything to blog about, and so I decided to just try to get them done as quickly as possible.  Of course, that doesn’t work as well when Master stays home, and I have no idea  what to blog about! So! I’m giving myself the amount of time it takes to eat two pieces of toast with a thin layer of cream cheese (less fat and cholesterol than butter, dontcha know) and drink a full glass (24 oz, maybe?) of ice water to come up with a topic and then I’m off to change the water in the fish tank.  If I don’t get it by then, I’ll be back later, I suppose.

Though, it doesn’t help when I’m distracted by every little thing.  I swear someone should have put me on Ritalin  twenty years ago.

Have you ever had something really bother you but you hesitate to talk about it because you’re pretty sure it shouldn’t bother you? Or, even if in “the real world” it should bother you, in your slave world it’s probably none of your business? This happens to me quite frequently.  And so, instead of saying “Hey Master, I’ve got a problem.” I bury it.  And bury it.  And bury it some more.  And then when we get to discussing some other problem, it resurfaces and it’s even meaner than it was when it first came up.  And I’m in even more trouble because I should have just said “Hey, this is bugging me.” weeks ago when it first started bugging me, regardless of the consequences.

An example of this is my angst over having ratty clothes and falling-apart shoes, being overweight and feeling like I can’t compare with the vast majority of the women Master thinks are hot.  Well, angst isn’t an accurate term.  I’ve been downright depressed about it.  But I didn’t tell Him about it until after I’d been crying over it every day for a week when He was already off to work.

It’s not that Master doesn’t want to buy me new clothes.  Au contraire! He has an entire new wardrobe He’d like to purchase for me.  Clothes that I would never dream of wearing if I wasn’t made to.  Mostly consisting of dresses and skirts.  But we’re broke (Maybe I should turn the paypal donations button into a fundraiser? Help Rayne lose weight and buy new clothes! Sponsor her with as little as $0.25/lb! ~grin~).  Hopefully, His raise and the eldest coming off child support will help that.

But maybe this isn’t Earth-shattering to you.  Maybe this is something you’d just flat out say.  What if it was  something else? What if it was some “flaw” in personality that has always been a minor annoyance but, agitated more by some other issue, has caused out of control irritation? Do you speak then?

I usually don’t.  And I should.  I should because I’m required to speak aloud, to Him, every single issue that floats around in my head.  Now, generally speaking, if I spoke every thought, I’d never shut up.  I mean, I’m always thinking about something, even if it is something utterly stupid (Like the other day, I spent a good thirty minutes thinking about how childlike I can be sometimes now that I’ve learned to stop and take in my environment while I watched a leaf – I couldn’t figure out what it was at first – float around in the murky water at the bottom of a really nice waterfall we used to spend a lot of time at.), so I would seriously just never shut up.  Word says that’s a run-on sentence.  Oh well.  Word can bite my uninterested butt.

In an attempt to “self-censor” and save face, I just go on trying to pretend nothing is bothering me.  I hold my tongue because surely a “real slave” wouldn’t have these thoughts.  Real slaves think their owners are practically perfect in every way, right? And real slaves would see any flaws as virtues, right? And real slaves would know that if there is some “flaw” in their owner, it’s none of their business, right? Right??!?

But damn if it doesn’t piss me off when He’s late, hence making me late, to some function or to work or a meeting or whatever.  And Jesus Christ, could He just stop procrastinating and do what He said He was going to do? Or let me do what I said I was going to do.  Or better yet, I’ll do what He said He was going to do (if I’m capable) and what I said I was going to do and He can go on procrastinating while it’s already done! And so what it’s months away? We’ll still need the same things months from now that we need right now so why not get them now while we’re sure we have the money?

These are all things I’ve expressed (to death) my concern with.  They’re all things I’ve been properly rebuffed for.  “None of your business, cunt.  It’s not your time, it’s my time.  It’s not your money, it’s my money.  Things will be done when I feel like doing them or allowing you to do them and not before.”  They still get my hackles up, but I’ve told Him they bother me.  Less and less the more I realize I’m not going to change Him.  And I’m more and more grateful for having found the right man to own me as I watch Him try to change some of these things at least a little bit.  For example, we were ten minutes early meeting the man who oversees volunteer work at the  cemetery last weekend.  I was shocked! (Disclaimer: I’m not complaining about these things now.  I’m using them as an example.  Right now, nothing about that man annoys me.  I want to curl up in His lap and give Him a great big smooch.  In places only dirty girls kiss.)

Did I have a point in all this? ::looks:: Oh yeah…

My newest endeavor (Maybe I take on too many at once and that’s why I always fail.  Maybe I should slow down and wait till I’ve succeeded at one to start on another.), I think, is going to be trying to speak up always when things first start to irk me so that I can still do it respectfully and at least not get in trouble for being out-of-control-mad (which leads to out-of-control-sarcasm-and-disrespect) when I finally bring my problem, which Master has no way of knowing until I open my mouth, to His attention.  Word says that’s a run-on sentence, as well.  Ah well.  I’m batting a  thousand.

And here it is, 9:34AM in New York, and I’ve only done half a load of dishes.  Maybe I should go in to work late tomorrow.

Categories: Discussion, rayne Tags:
Comments are closed.
%d bloggers like this: