The majority of my posts, reviews and articles here are sex based, themed or just damn sexy (well, that’s the intention anyhow) so now I am going to disappoint you all with a real life blog post. As this is still my blog and therefore I’m allowed.
That defensive sulky tone is borne from previous journal type posts which have resulted in the ‘wooden spoons’ of the internet demanding that I only ever write sexy posts. Sorry folks; real person here with a real life and other feelings besides those originating from the depths of my cunt.
Anyway, on with the ramblings. I’ve been so tired lately and I think I’m risking real burn-out again. This happened last summer when I was working a full time job as ghost marketer-writer-working-person for a company as well as growing my own website and brand. It ended up with me crying every single day without fail and working 14 hours a day minimum to keep up with it all. As well as the two kids including a baby and one of my poly relationships adding only negativity to my life and sapping absolutely anything positive from me.
I really don’t want this to happen again and I’m not sure how to go about making it better. I’m still getting something of a weekend, although my ‘must have weekends’ rule is diminishing bit by bit with the odd article being written on Saturday morning, checking emails before family evening and Sunday afternoon replying to emails or completing admin. The week is a hectic race against the clock, with a heavy daily to-do list and various ‘helps’ to make sure I don’t forget things. Even with a desk diary, two wall planners, a Google Calendar on all devices and lists on a notepad I still miss things.
I’ve only cried once in the past week which I count as something of a win. I’m doing the usual woman thing of worrying about my body as the sun’s finally come out to play, which is pretty much the summation of an English summer. Sun’s out, are you bikini ready? Well I’m not. Sure, I could get my body into a bikini and shave my legs properly this time without ten cuts that I dollop some germolene on to beneath my leggings, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable in myself. So yeah, diet and exercise it is. I have a new cross trainer which I have used a grand total of three times in a month. For an embarrassingly short period of time.
My energy is non-existent regardless of what I eat, diet or no. I’ve been to the doctor and got pretty much laughed out the door – early nights and take it easy. Doesn’t exactly sound like a balanced medical opinion to me. I would hardly have wasted a couple of hours out of my day, away from the desk to go see a doctor who just tells me to ‘get a bit of kip’ when I tell them that I hurt pretty much all the time, I get random bruises daily and I get so tired that I can’t see straight. I just wanted some blood tests taken – I’ve had glandular fever in the past and I know that various problems can arise in the wake of this. But of course as is so often the case with the healthcare system, in England anyway, if you’re not gushing blood from anywhere there must be nothing wrong with you. Even if you are gushing blood from somewhere you might have had the common decency to try a plaster over it first before bothering the important Doctor People.
I wasn’t very happy coming out of the docs, but we must carry on, right? Stiff upper lip, inject some viagra and all that.
Half term at the moment so it’s been lovely (really, not even being sarcastic) having my older boy at home as well as little Blue. Well he’s not so little now – 18 months and in 2-3 yrs clothes! He’s the cutest. Just like his Daddy, a little genius. Too clever for his own good. Well with most things anyway – he only likes eating inedible things, not his food. Ardent milk guzzler.
I’ll probably feel perfectly fine in a couple of days and have a vibrator hanging out of everywhere you can hang a vibrator out of, with Pink blasting from a music system, a vat of coffee besides me and a Skype conversation on the go with 3 Dommes I happen to know. You know, the sort of thing that sex bloggers like to get up to on a daily basis.
Feeling bloody guilty for complaining about anything in my life, to tell the truth. I’m incredibly lucky – well, I say lucky, it’s taken a lot of hard work – to be able to work from home, see my children as much when I’m a working mum and to live in a beautiful home with people that love me. Last year was a dreadful nightmare with an utter Bitch Ex who stole from us, her family and mutual friends and hasn’t even got the guts to look people in the eye any more. Little wonder. Being a lying, thieving alcoholic will do that. Moving on, life has been a dream come true (fantasy become real, perhaps?) since the start of this year which was indeed, a fresh start.
I just wish I had a little more energy and perhaps placed a little less pressure on myself when it comes to work matters and writing. I can’t seem to slow down and I certainly don’t want to stop – it’s difficult to switch off at night when my mind is spinning with ideas and plans and activities yet to come.
Perhaps I just need to cut down on the coffee, actually. Scratch the above, I’ll be fine.