Resignation and Application

I have resigned my position as underpaid service whore for the small-ish definitely cheap shit-hole of an office I work in. My last day will be soon.
So now that I have my summer free, I have time to partake in conversations on Fist's and Trans's blogs and read their posts. We all know that this job was seriously interfering with that and that is the main reason I was quitting.

With all this free time and the summer Heat coming on (full strength I might add, building every day), there seems to be a position open. If interested, read on:

WANTED: One lover.
Must not be disillisioned to the art of lovemaking due to overpartaking in its pleasures with multitudes. Must also be skilled and have learned well. Must be open to new experiences. Must have a high libido. Must be subtle. Must be trustworthy and honest. Must be intellectual as well as interesting. Must be able to travel to far away places in the middle of nowhere and enjoy doing this. Must be able to stand mosquito bites. Must be clean and conscientious. Must enjoy reading and animals. Must like to eat and to cook, as well as be catered too. Must enjoy panties and socks in all their forms. Must be playful. Must love life. Must be okay with being loved. Must be interested in an equal partnership. Must be willing to deal with a strange mix of exhibitionism and extreme shyness. Must be free of STD's.
Males or females may apply to subtlevinegar@gmail.com. Only one applicant may be choosen.

#1

I am and #1 I will be. Subtle vinegar #1

Yesterday I found out that indeed I was next slated on the list to be heaved from this sinking ship. Not directly, only indirectly. He, the big GM, who decided he hated me and my attitude after I challenged his lies, was trying to find a replacement for me a month before I was scheduled to leave. Now, with him being "evicted" from his seat, I think I will leave anyway. A summer free, for eating for lunching for being for doing for sleeping for stretching for reading for writing for gardening for walking for hiking for swimming for fucking for working for licking for thinking for coming for teasing for me.

How indulgent. How bourgeoisie. How elite. How crass. How time consuming wasting wanting.

How isolated I will be. But, no more than I am now, here in the big city, working and talking to no one.

Once upon a time

I dated an alcoholic.

I was young. He hid it well at the beginning ... or was it he slowly fell into it while I was with him.

It was a brutal time for me, trying to convince myself I was so in love with the stinking pile beside me in the bed.

He could never come during oral sex because he had lived with a gay guy who would do him that favour and it was better than any girl could ever perform.

I never knew when he was going to show up, drunk, and try to profess his love for me or make me drive him home, or terrorize me.

He raped me.

Finally I left him on the night he came to a dinner I was having with my boss and colleagues. He was completely drunk and made an idiot of himself and me. He punched the window out in his car. He kept telling me that he didn't deserve me. That night I locked myself in the bathroom to get away from him. He broke down the door to get in. I finally told him I was going to call the police and I actually ment it.

I later found out he had been cheating on me.

I moved to a different city and he got my number and called me obsessively, both drunk and sober. I finally unplugged my phone and only plugged it in when I needed to call someone.

He came to my house at Christmas to try and get me back.I run into him every few years back in my home town and I always think, "He is so short."

Why?

I forgot what the point of my story was.

He had a smell. A smell that I now associate with alcoholics. It isn't the beer smell, although I can't stand that smell on people's breath either. It is the smell of their bodies.

I once went on a date with a successful young lawyer. He had had one beer and that smell was coming out of his pores. I never saw him again.

I work at an establishment that has a lounge and while I don't work in it, I have to go through there. I can often smell that smell on some of the people in there. It is worrying to smell it on one of the workers there, but there is nothing I can do about it.

I can tell by nose if anyone has been drinking any quantity.

I don't trust alcohol.

I only asked ...

The other day I asked a friend of mine if he would take a picture of me in a cute pair of panties so I could send it and be a guest pantie on (of course) panties, and he said,
"Don't you have to gain some weight?"
Which I took to mean that he did not think I was attractive at my present weight and no one would be interested in seeing such a skinny thing in cute panties. Yes, I am thin, waif-like even. But not unhealthily so, and I eat! I have no problems with that. I have a very high metabolism.
So I am kind of hurt ... and soon I will be up in the middle of nowhere again, being a teacher and have no one around where I can ask things like that of. It was kind of a stretch to ask him. Take my own picture? I could ... but I can't and I will leave it at that for the moment.

Yellow

is my favourite colour but not all yellows are equal. Take the yellow of the Country Flowers calendar that features the FTD Sunburst Bouquet. Not so good and conveniently right in my face at eye level all day long.
Today I wore my silly pink pants with the suede ties. Of course I am 8, why do you ask?
And ugly panties. Very ugly. Poor poor me.
I can't believe how much I work for so little money and today the owner asked me if it was true I was going to teach in the fall and quit. I said it was and he told me it wasn't a good career move. Um, hello? You pay me below poverty level at a job that is mindless but requires great organizational skills. I can work in a field that interests me for at least twice the pay and have my own place. What would you choose? Yeah, I thought so.
I am getting excited about teaching again. I have a small class of kindergarten and grade 1 students in the fall. Pre-kindergarten will also be joining us. My old boss is pissed at me because I turned down his job and I am pissed at him for being pissed at me. How articulate I am.
I have had time to read a couple of pages before I sleep for the past few days. I am currently reading trash and more trash I find on the shelves of the place I am staying. Oh to be able to get a library card and find out where a library is. This WWI romance is wearing me down. Maybe I want romance? A woman here set me up with a guy just about twice my age and while he is nice he is just in a different place then I am, with grown kids and being retired and all. He really likes me though and I just can't do it. It would be like kissing my uncle or dad's friends or something. I just don't want to.

With

the summer comes the heat. I am glad my fever has finally broken (after a burning, flaming red epsiode where sweat was pouring off my face and people at work were asking how and when did I get such a nasty sunburn) and that heat can be gone. The heat is the same heat that I wrote about before, the one where I throw my inhibitions out the window and act like a cat. What with the moaning and the crying and the rubbing of the privates on anything and everything, it gets kind of annoying for all around me I am sure. I think I enjoy, somewhat, being on an extreme sexual edge. I know I enjoy it a lot more when I have someone to wear out with it, I mean, share it with. I also know it is wearing on me. Maybe at least it will get me to take some time off of work in pursue of my own interests.
I went to a palmist the other day. She said sensuality pours off of me and I need a lover at all times. Not only a lover but a capable lover, one that knows. Odd that she would tell me that now, as I have been thinking about that lately. It is the same conclusion I have reached but since I cannot find anyone who wishes to be in that role who is acceptable to me, I was considering going the celibate route, perhaps for the rest of my life. But now, with the palmist telling me that I need (NEED) a lover, I may just have to throw myself back into my own stupidity for that lover. Nice.

Pain

It all started innocuously enough, what with only working an hour of overtime everyday. Sure it cut into my time, and sure I was missing eating lunch and dinner, but what can you do. Then I started working a bit more, 13 hours one day, 8 hours on my supposed day off, until it snowballed into 16 hour workdays. This left me little time for the 45 minute commute to work and back and sleep. God I miss sleep. All the while I had this cold. An awful cold that everyone else managed to rid themselves of in short time. Not myself, not with the not eating, not sleeping, and working all hours of the day. It had to turn into pneumonia. Still, I have not been able to take time off work to go to a doctor and get something for it, even though my brain is raging in fever everyday and I am unsuccessfully trying to hack up a bloody piece of my lung. Today, at hour 8 my boss yelled at me (for catching him in a lie), and here I still am, at hour 12. On a Friday, at a stupid job I hate. That pays me nothing. And I am thinking of coming in tomorrow. Somebody. Please. Shoot. Me.
Last night I had a dream that I was trying to find a spot to bury these two decomposing heads (heads which I had unsuccessfully tried to preserve in a formaldehyde type solution) of people I had murderd. It was time to put that part of my life behind me and move on. But I didn't want anyone to find them and trace it to me, so it was hard for me to get them out of my house to a suitable place.