Dearly Beloved...

Yesterday's post was like a poop that got cut short, the one you have to pinch off because some one is knocking on your door and you're not one to let a knock go unanswered.

I'm working from home today - what a fucking a relief. No vomit!! To just be able to focus and work on one task to the next... hallelujah.

I'm going to put my feet in some foot callus soak (provides 2 weeks of gorgeous and gross foot peeling, it's amazing!) whilst I work on one thing at a time, uninterrupted.  AND, I'm gonna get some laundry done.

The cacophony that is that fucking work place - Jesus. No wonder I want to vomit at the thought of going there. I have fun and everything, I love the people I work with, but it's madness.

We're moving into a new office space in a few months. We've completely outgrown the office we have, where we take up two floors of a building and we're like ants going up and down stairs and covering the walls and floors with busy, busy work. So, we're going into a bigger building and we'll all be on the same floor. Our new office is currently being professionally decorated. Yeah, that's what I said.

We were a start up, now we're a grown up. Our current office looks like a boys apartment, a boy who's mother came in a some point and tried to class it up a bit but failed under the weight of the task. I've never really cared or noticed this fact too much, which is to say I happily accepted it. But now that I've seen the mood boards for the new office, I figure I will gladly take a grown up apartment for a work environment. And hopefully, some grown up quiet space.

I'm feeling me here

In other news, I had yet another chat about my asexual behaviour with my partner. Just checking in to tell him, "I'm super kinda sorry about this, but it's how I feel and... that's that." I reminded both of us about the conversation we had before we moved in, the one where I said "I don't want to feel like I'm married. I want to be able to feel single and independent;" you know,  as if I am a super busy business woman who has adult children she stays close to while single handedly conceptualizing and managing the  rebuilding of complex software system for an emerging start up. So I don't have time for a full time lover, only a part time lover who I can call for dates and stuff.

And you know what? It went well. Really well. I told him that I end up resenting "us" if I can't "pretend" (yes, that is "crazy" person air quotes) that I live in my own apartment (that has a real live warm body to curl into when needed) and not feel like I have some....

wifely obligation to feed or sex another human!

 I'll go berserk. I really will.

He said, "Look..." he's happy and he loves me a lot a lot. He loves what we have. Sure, he has desires more than I do, but he can manage that on his own (it's not like we never have sex, we just don't have new relationship sex). He said he'd thought about all of this and walked through the whole "Ohh, look at that girl, she's hot. What would it be like to be with her and to be having crazy sex all the time?" and on the other side of that conversation was dismay that it wouldn't be me that he was spending time with and what if this "other new sexy time girl" didn't let me him be independent?

So, we both like the independence. If and when I drag him on a home shopping adventure, he hates it the whole time. He, also, does not want to be married, but he does appreciate the comfy home he gets to live in and the warm body.

He also, and this is new to me, does not expect that I should want to have sex with him when he hasn't put any effort into the days and weeks to woo me. What a fucking novel experience to have with man/boy! Trusting this though, that's a whole different day and post (which I think I've already written at some point).

So, there you have it, my basket of things that feel like problems, that are all apparently solved by working from home (check the time, I wrote this before "work hours," nice try though), but are more just the uncomfortable stages of this relentless thing we call "life."

And, for you, at the end of all my first world society problems, I have delivered an un-pinched poop.

That feels better