It’s been a few days since my last blog. The last week has been full of highs and lows, culminating in an extreme low over the weekend.
I was, I think, a little bit like a weather front, I knew it was coming and the pressure was building but when it blew no one was quite ready, even I wasn’t prepared for just how bloody miserable I was.
It culminated in a very moody me over the weekend. I am blaming my hormones for this as, well I can can’t I, I am a woman of a certain age and to be honest I can’t think of any other reason for it? I was like a big black cloud of keep the fuck away from me.
If this is the menopause it can bloody well sod off or I wont have any friends left by the end of it!
Elsie is in full Christmas mode and over the weekend took over the kitchen to bake and sing badly to Mariah Carey’s All I want for Christmas, on repeat and rewind. All I want for Christmas is somewhere dark and quiet so I can sulk. It seems I’m not getting it.
She has been playing Christmas tunes since about Tuesday and Tom and I are teetering on the edge. Me more than Tom as he is just trying to drown her out with his own outrageously bad taste in music. The God awful noise coming from his room this weekend was enough to make your ears bleed. I think they call it rap, personally I would stick a large capital C in front of that and that is mild compared to some of the language I heard being shouted along to the strains of a thumping melody.
I love Christmas, I do. However, I love it when it is here, not in November when it is just the stress of christmas shopping that fills your head and none of the festive cheer.
Elsie in Christmas mode is a force to reckoned with, she loves Christmas like no one else I know. By the time she had finished baking it looked like it had been snowing in the kitchen. After baking it was decoration making time. I’m not sure she had picked up on my menopausal vibe but if she had she was blatantly ignoring it.
All weekend she has been, baking, making and singing while leaving a trail of tinsel, glitter and silver balls all over the place and just generally being downright bloody merry. She is NOT my child.
Tom has made it out of lockdown. My money is on him being back in it by the weekend. He was nearly in it by the end of the day. This morning I gave him the money to get his haircut at the barbers near work. He was supposed to leave school, walk the 6 minute journey to the barbers get a hair cut and then walk for a further 5 minutes to the surgery without endangering himself or anyone else.
Did he manage it? No, did he bollocks.
When he turned up at the surgery looking like someone has swept the road with him, I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t had his haircut. He then went in to a long story about how this funny thing happened and he was so thirsty that he had to get a drink, then when he got to the barbers he didn’t have enough money but he had to get a drink because I am always moaning at him for not drinking enough and he didn’t want to get in to trouble but then he couldn’t get his hair cut because he didn’t have enough money left and now he supposed I was going to moan at him anyway.
No, of course I’m not going to moan at you, whatever gave you that idea?
Could I just ask you one thing though Tom? When will you ever do the thing I ask you to do, without deviating from the plan or just coming up with a new plan entirely and then making it sound like you tried your very best to stick to the plan but it was someone elses fault entirely that you managed to once again fail to stick to the bloody plan?
I didn’t of course say all of that I just handed him more money and sent him back of to the barbers. I’m saving that particular flea for when we get home!
No dates this weekend, probably just as well as I am not sure I could have been responsible for my actions. I am struggling to be nice as it is.
The new site is productive to say the least if you count the number of daily messages compared to those on the old site. However, if you count the number of messages that actually have words in them and not just pictures, it’s not quite so productive.
What in Gods name is this obsession with pictures. I can’t get my head around the fact that people are quite willing to share more of themselves than it is reasonable to expect to see. I have a fairly good imagination and I know what a cock looks like so I think I can manage to maintain a picture in my head without any visual aids, thank you.
I know I said that I wanted to have sex but I would like to do it person if it’s all the same with you!
The ongoing saga with C is still, well… ongoing. Christian and I am using his full name for obvious reasons as in my head it is that Christian!
You know about C. He’s the one who winked at me, I winked back then 2 days later he winked again, kept looking at my profile… and so on and so forth.
We (well I) struck up a conversation 19 days ago, although when I say conversation I am talking one message every few days, which I’m not sure constitutes an actual conversation. It went something along the lines of;
Me: (as it was clear he wasn’t going to, despite all the winking) Ooh, you are hot!
Him: Hi J, thank you. You are not too bad yourself…hot! xx
Him: Good Morning! x (this was the message I waited all day to read never wanting the anticipation to end).
Me: (much later and once I had recovered from the anticlimax) Good evening! x
Him: Sorry, not been on here for a couple of days. How are you? So what do we do now…I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot…we need to get out hot arses together I think!! X
Me: I’m good thank you. I think I like the sound of that! x
Him: Fancy meeting for dirty sex, could be a great first date? x
Me: So could a Vodka Martini while we decide if we like each other first… after that the worlds your oyster? x
Him: Let’s do it, sounds good to me. x
Me: Okay C, Let me know what your plan is and when you want to put it in to action? x
Him: Nothing, absolutely bloody nada!
Its been 4 days again since he has been online. Is anyone really that busy? I will have come out the other side of the bloody menopause by the the time we get this together, if we ever do!
It has taken us nearly 3 weeks to get to this point and we are no closer to arranging a date than we were 19 days ago. He is hot and I would like to meet him, it is beyond an itch that needs a bloody good scratch.
However, I am bored now. Bored with waiting 4/5 days between every reply and bored with people saying things they really don’t seem to mean. We are getting nowhere.
Still maybe it’s a good job he didn’t message over the weekend as who knows what I would have said but it would more than likely have ended with… off! 🙂