Old Habits Die Hard

After nearly a year living a 24/7 D/s relationship and more than two years together, you’d think that I’d be so immersed in my submission that old issues wouldn’t rear their ugly head. You’d be wrong. I know I was.

I’ve felt decidedly unsubmissive lately. I don’t question my submissive nature – I know who and what I am. But it’s easy not to feel it. John Brownstone is holding up his end of things. I still have tasks. He still has expectations. It’s all still there. But it’s my mind that’s flown the coop.

Twice (meaning two days in a row, y’all), I forgot to get the coffee pot ready for him so he could have his first cup of coffee of the day. Anyone who survives off of caffeine or loves someone who does, knows the importance of that first cup. And I forgot. I felt bad, but apparently not enough to remember after the first incident. Worse, it’s one of those daily tasks that I agreed to do, and usually do without fail. Ugh.

I had a pity party on Mother’s Day because although I was given every thing I asked for (literally, every single thing), I was disappointed that I wasn’t given things I didn’t ask for. Before you imagine a diva-like babygirl requesting jewelry and kinky toys, let’s clear that up. I asked for time to read my books and paint my nails. I asked to not have to cook or clean. I asked to do what I wanted to do during the day. And I got it. But we didn’t go out to eat, and I was disappointed. Except I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t communicate well. Then I was disappointed when I didn’t get what I wanted. I fell into the whole “he should have known” thing. I confessed the problem the next day – with full apologies for being ridiculous and profuse thanks for being given the most peaceful Mother’s Day I’ve ever had. But it still happened.

I’ve ranted and raved to him over and over again that our new (and very temporary) schedule and routine is for the birds. We’re in an in-between time between the move and the summer. Because we moved so close to the end of the school year, it didn’t make sense to have the boys change schools with only a month to go. So I drive them – 45 minutes one way. That’s not too horrible, except that they’re on different schedules. The youngest is only in school for three hours, so there’s no going home during the day. I’m a road warrior who works on the road, wherever I can get WiFi. If I’m lucky, I get three hours a day to work.

The Universe works in mysterious ways. Right as this new schedule began, I lost my best-paying (but most stressful and WORST) client. I should have been more upset (it was damn good money, y’all), but I really didn’t like working with them. It freed me up when I had almost zero time for work, but it’s also killing our budget. I know I can earn the money back, but I feel like I have no time to do it.

The joke (funny because it’s true) around here is that I can come up with ideas and tasks to keep ten people busy. I’m filled with things I want to do – and until June, no time to do them. That lack of productivity, combined with a lot more hours spent with my children than I’m used to (does the 9 year old ever stop talking?!) has left me in a weird mental state where I actually feel less submissive.

Maybe it’s because I’m disciplining, scolding, and being in charge for more hours of the day than usual.

Maybe it’s because I feel like I have zero control over my vanilla life, so the kinky side is floundering.

Maybe I’m just a basketcase who could use multiple good spankings. I got an excellent spanking the other day, and it worked…for about 12 hours, and then I was off again. Ugh.

Instead of being soothed by my tasks, knowing there’s a calm order to my life, I’m annoyed by them. Poor Daddy asked for breakfast just before I began writing this post. I offered cereal – a no-go because he’s congested and doesn’t want milk to make it worse. He wanted an English muffin, and I balked because that required more effort than other options we had. (Ugh, I’m embarrassed to even admit I did that. But he did get his English muffin.)

I find myself talking back, huffing, and basically slacking off. He can bring me back with a firm look, a rough tug on my hair, and even a mild smack to my cheek (face or ass). But it doesn’t last. It doesn’t stick. Once he walks away, my mind starts whirling again – and my mouth follows.

There’s no easy fix. Daily spankings don’t fit into our life right now. Hell, our one night of amazing-OMG-fun was the first in a while. We’ve been too tired for much of anything lately. I know I just have to ride this out until June when at least one part of life calms down again, and I can take back a little control of my vanilla life. But it ain’t easy.

Old habits die hard, but I have learned at least one thing. When I feel like I have zero control in one part of my life (ya know, the part I want to have control over), it’s much harder to give up control in another part. It’s not impossible, and deep down, I’m still submissive. But sometimes I’m also a borderline bratty, impudent, smartassy, pouty, whiny, foot-stompy bitch, too.