okay ladies and gents, first let me say today is my mother’s 54th birthday. she had me at the ripe old age of 23 and i was a joy and a blessing to be sure. okay so i traumatized her and kept her up all night. didn’t eat my vegetables and slapped my brother around when she wasn’t looking. she drives me nuts routinely but she’s a funny old lady and i like her most of the time. so happy birthday to the mommy that created me and all the insanity that you read here.
moving on, i’m in bed sick right now. i left feeling horribly and before i got to my office i had to turn around. i came upstairs got undressed let some of the sick out and then back into bed. i am contemplating going into work this afternoon but i am leaning towards a no because i just want to sleep. i need to touch base with a co-worker and then i have to treat mommy to her birthday dinner of gigantic lobsters and then i’m going to return to bed and just lounge here.
all of this downtime had me thinking though. that strange woman in the back bedroom and i have have very little in common honestly. we don’t like the same things, food, people, places, anything. my mother could spend all day, and has, shopping and out eating. that drives me nuts within a few hours so i do power shopping–six stores, less than 2 hours and grab a bite to eat on the way home. she would enjoy eating random things that i don’t want to touch let alone eat. i could spend all day in the library or book store and my mother would be scrunching up her nose shortly after she didn’t find anything in the sale bin. she has been an older version of my face as long as i can remember but beyond that we operate on different planes. i look like her but act like my father and my brother well he was daddy’s twin and is my mother’s best shopping buddy. i can’t comment on my brother’s sex life–nor would i ever want to as that would warp my brain–but from what i know of my parents, i still have more in common with daddy than mommy.
mom was rather reserved by all accounts and since their divorce she hasn’t dated a lot of people and none of them gave me the slightest kink vibe. i wasn’t old enough to pay attention to dad’s third wife (mom was the second) but he and the fourth were experimenters let’s just say. when i cleaned up his room after he died i was glad i was doing most of it alone. there were some things that had to be disposed of privately for certain. and i didn’t feel as if my kink was entirely developed on my own. however, being the chronic overachiever kid i am i took it to a totally different level. and i like it here. the nuances and emotions and touches are just so wonderfully charged. the depth of lust that is created, just makes me fan myself. and when two people really connect that is the single best high i could imagine right now. granted my imagination is stymied by “don’t feel good” but i think you understand my point.
okay i am going to stop babbling and probably go back to sleep now. no work for red today. i may be back later if i am feeling better or if she loses her mind at dinner.