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Master called His safeword!

November 8th, 2007

Today kind of sucks. I’m sick and exhausted and have absolutely no idea what to blog about so, unfortunately, you guys might be subjected to another babble session. I’ve had this cold for a while but it ebbs, then springs back up to kick me in the ass, then backs off again.

I meant to paint ladybugs on my fingernails today but I’ve been so busy putting ID on a bunch of blog directories that I completely forgot about it. Shameless self-promotion is never a bad thing, I always say, even if it means the ladybugs wait another day.

I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I’ll never be considered a “good worker” at any job I have simply because my time is not my own and I can’t always rush to the aid of my employer when she decides she doesn’t want to go to work. I’m not entirely sure why with 7+ people clocked in at the moment, at least three of which are just plain redundant, they so desperately need me to fill in. I’m also not entirely sure why with 4 hired cooks it always falls to me to cover the shifts dropped by the others. If they want me to act as a manager I think it’s high time they pay me as one. And get rid of the acting manager since she never seems to want to work anymore.

And I’m so incredibly sorry I always seem to be whining about work. I plan to omit that part of my day in the future, but the real reason I mentioned it today was to mention that it’s starting to get through my thick skull that my time is not my own.

It really is that simple. My time is not my own. My time belongs to Master. And regardless of my ideas about work ethic and such, what it comes down to is this: How I conduct myself regarding everything in my life depends solely on Him. What does this mean for me on the work front? It means I can’t always rush off to cover someone else’s ass. It means I can’t always stay late or go in early. It means sometimes I can’t even cover my own shift if, for whatever reason, He’s decided I should stay home.

It sucks. I hate it. At least I’m honest. I hate that I can’t conduct myself in what I view as a professional manner because my time is not my own. I hate that I can’t perform to my full potential because my life is not my own. And at the same time, I love it.

I love it because if it were left in my hands, as I’ve proven in the past, I’d work myself damn near to death. I love it because Master knows when enough is enough and pulls the plug, whereas I’d just go on working. I love it because Master’s seen the damage us working so much is doing to our relationship and my growth as a slave and He’s yelled His safeword. ::grin:: I love it because it means He wants to spend more time with me. More time treating me as what I am: His property. And goddess do I miss that.

And He’s right. I shouldn’t be covering my boss’s ass all the time. I shouldn’t have to. She’s the boss. She should be the one always picking up the slack. But for some reason she’s suddenly the favorite. And I can’t help but think it’s because Ch and I have worked together to get the kitchen in shape and they’re assuming that T is the one doing it all.

I often find myself considering explaining these things to my boss. Not T, but the standing administrator. But I remember all these horror stories about people getting into trouble because of their chosen lifestyle… my chosen lifestyle… and I decide it would be a very bad idea. At the same time, I feel like it’s not fair to them wanting to be able to count on me and not being able to and not knowing why. I want to march right into that office and be like, “If you want me to work extra hours and cover T’s ass all the time, you’re going to have to make nice with my Husband and right now He hates you. But here’s what you can do to ease His anger a bit…”

I find myself imagining them suddenly being so much more understanding when I say, “My time is not my own. It belongs to my Husband. I belong to my Husband. It’s not me you should be asking to come in. Call Him. Ask Him if He has need of me.” In reality, they’d probably fire me. Bad for company morale or something. I’m really not sure company morale could be any worse.

In any case… Something else for me to learn to live with. And I’m getting there. I really am.

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