Question

What is it like being a man?

Surprise

I was reading a few blogs, just relaxing, trying to think of what I might want to write about, when I nearly choked on my drink. I saw a girl that I pretty well . . . or thought I knew well. She was a bit younger, her hair was a lot longer, but it was definately her; in all her naked glory. It is hard to keep a blog anonymous if you are going to post a photo of your face looking back at you in the bathroom mirror. Beyond that, post all the photos you like I say.

Hugs,

Rachel

Wide Load, My Mental Health Counselor

I am sure everyone reads Cande's blog. She is amazing. I often read her blog and ask myself, "why can't I write like that". Today, I saw the picture she took of herself and I ask, "why can't I take pictures like that!!!".

Oh well, to paraphrase Hermione Granger, let me return to things more of the muggle world.

I have been going to the gym. I returned to the gym because I was afraid I was getting a bit flabby. I enjoy working out. And, to be honest, I drive over most days hoping Wide Load will be there too. I find that I get to laugh more when he is there. Last week, as my writings indicated, was not a good week. I have been getting, the past several weeks, more depressed. More negative, I guess as well. It must have been pretty obvious this week that I needed a friend. Wide Load pulled me to the side and asked what was up. I told him some of it all. He listened. I decided to try being more positive about it. Not an easy task!!! Something good will work out. Maybe I am meant to be somewhere else. Maybe I am meant to be away from the office more (which means I might have more things to write about :) ). It is really weird, when I walk into the gym, my body is dragging and it is all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. When I am leaving, it is like I am less drained mentally and physically.

Re-Charging My Batteries

I am sorry about yesterday's whine post. It had been a long week and I was drained; drained physically and drained emotionally. Today is a beautiful day, the sun is out, the sky is blue, I have my bikini on, and I am washing the car (I might even wash the Boyfriend's car, though I doubt he deserves it :)). I love the sun. I am taking my time and letting it re-charge my batteries.

And for those of you who ask for pictures - I had vowed never to take any pictures. I want to make up for being such a downer, so here. Be kind.

Hugs,

Rachel

I Dread Going To Work Each Morning

I wrote this a few days ago and have been debating whether to post it or not. Its a bit depressing and not what I normally talk about. I thought maybe by writing it down it would stop the thoughts from running around in my head all the time. This is what I wrote:

I feel like crying almost every day anymore. The owner brought a new woman into the office who makes every day a nightmare. We all used to go lunch together. We told jokes in the office, played pranks on each other, and we always helped each other out with work. Not anymore. We went from a friendly little office to a group of people who now stay in their own rooms to avoid dealing with her. What does she do? She complains about the thermostat. If anyone is talking in the hallway, then she complains that she could not hear her client on the phone (realize that she is almost NEVER on the phone with a client). If a sales rep comes into the office to see her, then she gets mad and complains if you even speak to them yourself. If a sales rep comes to speak to one of us; then she will not speak to them unless they make an appointment to come back another day with just her. She complained to the owner that she needed a better computer system, so she got her very own upgrade. If the Administrative Assistant does not handle her work first - and its always just made up work because she does not do anything - then she complains to us that we are preventing her from taking care of her accounts (and she has no accounts). The owner was after me to give her some of my accounts. I refused because that meant I was taking a pay cut; I get paid by the account and created every account that I have. But, the owner will not cut her because the economy sucks and she has certain connections of which he is hoping to take advantage. She seems to have taken a particularly strong dislike towards me. Why? Probably because she wants my accounts; not that she would actually manage those accounts or be able to keep them. I dread every morning the thought of having to go into the office. I pretty much stay in my office all day except for lunch and bathroom breaks. I worry about what will happen if I do lose my job. I worry about having a job. I worry about what it might mean if I do lose my job. And mostly, I just dread going into work every morning.

The Dangers of Drunk Texting

Oh My God.

I went into the gym yesterday more than a bit nervous about my textual indiscretion from Saturday. I kind of hoped it would be dead inside the gym since most places were closed Monday and I kind of hoped I could just get it over with today. Waiting is Hell. My anxiety peaked when I saw there were almost no parking spaces the gym was sooooo packed. I tried to walk my personal Green Mile as casually as possible, without a care in the world, while the empty space inside my stomach just grew and grew. My dread was for naught because Wide Load had gone to train at another gym that night. Apparently this is something most of the wide loads do to stave off boredom. Great, I thought, I get to dread that first face-to-face for another twenty-four hours.

Or so I thought!!!!

I get an email today . . from Primo.

He wrote, “have I blown my opportunity forever or is there still a chance?”.

What “opportunity”, I asked him with an empty space growing in my stomach.

“Me and your boyfriend turning you into a sandwich”.

OH MY GOD!!!

I had not texted Wide Load – I had texted Primo.

What had I texted? I had deleted everything when Sunday when the alcohol finally left my system. What had I written? I was trying desperately to recall.

“The Boyfriend would probably balk”, I emailed back.

“Then we’ll find someone else”.

“Um, I don’t know that I could. I was really drunk on Saturday”.

“No problem. We’ll just get you 'really drunk' again”.

Oh My God. I do not know if he was just torturing me with his teasing or if he was really being serious.

And what did I text Wide Load?

Brock vs. Shane

Have you ever been simply unable to sit still. Last night, I was unbelievably restless. I wanted - NEEDED - to go out. I wanted to do something wild and out of control; I was willing to settle for going out to bar and watching the UFC Fight; Brock vs. Shane. I love to watch them. The Boyfriend is not so much into it. He finally agreed to go out with me.

You have to get there soooooo early if you want to get a table. That means a lot of waiting. And more sitting. When I am already sick with restlessness. What's a girl to do . . . except drink. Have I mentioned before how I get when I have been drinking. Either alcohol turns me into ultra-horny chick or it removes all the inhibitions hiding my near constant state of arousal; either way, look out.

I tried flirting with the Boyfriend. He has a hard time with flirting when we are alone in the apartment. In the middle of a crowded bar, he was way out of his element. I tried loosening him up by making a bet on the fight. If Brock won, then I would strip down naked and suck him dry. (There is no point mentioning what I would have won since Shane tapped out in the second round!!!!) I tried running my foot along his leg. He did the best he could to flirt back, but he was clearly not comfortable with public displays of affection. (Sigh.)

I texted a few girlfriends. Nothing special. Just playing and wasting time. I made it a point to show the Boyfriend a few of those texts. Then I texted Primo. He chastised me for teasing him. He texted that I needed to be taken outside and fucked up the ass until I promised to behave. (Sigh, Primo knows how to talk to a girl . . . laughing).

I saw a few boys noticing me from another table. They were late teens and early twenties. I had my hair down. I was wearing a "Tapout" T-shirt, short denim skirt, and very high heels. I think the boys appreciated me. I crossed my legs and shifted to let them be out from under the table. Let the boys get a better view. Good to know I still had it.

There were a lot of people from the gym there too. And I mean the wide loads as well. I was surprised at how many seemed to know me from the gym. Many waved, nodded, or came over to speak for a moment. One wide load actually came over and pulled up a chair. He talked with me for a bit, then spent a lot of time talking with the Boyfriend. Guy code, I guess, he did not want to appear to be intruding on another man's date.

Wide Load had set his phone and keys on the table. I had lost most of my inhibitions by that time, so had no problem just picking his phone up to scroll through its menu. I was opening his pictures when i realized Wide Load was watching me. He simply smiled and cautioned me to be careful at what I open. Now, tell me, how could I stop after that? OMG. Yep, you guessed it, naked women everywhere. He said he used to have a girlfriend who was into women as well and that she was always sending him pictures of herself or of her with other women to him. He said he loved her, but that she was not ready to settle down with him and she left. He missed her saying that was why he still had most of the photos; admitting with smile that they were damned fine photos too. I think he did miss her though, so I gave him a hug. Oh momma, Wide Load was huge. I kept playing with his phone. I pretended to text a few of his friends. I texted me - so that I could get his number.

After Wide Load went back to his friends, I texted him to pout that he paid so much attention to the Boyfriend. He texted what should have have done. I said simply, "pay more attention to me". He asked for suggestions. The alcohol took over what was left of my brain - I said he and the Boyfriend should have taken me home, stripped me naked, and made me fuck them both AT THE SAME TIME. We went back and forth a few times and I simply said he had missed his opportunity.

Shane lost. Dammit!!!! I went home to make good on my bet.