pleaseSir

August 29, 2000

So it's day 3 of not having a computer. I'm handling it, but not as well as I should be I suppose. The major problem is I'm panicking about the ezine getting updated by Friday. At this point, things don't look good.

Master helped me set up as an extra user in His email program, so I'm able to get some mail at least. I also set the mailing lists at 'no mail' but it seems strange not having things to read. I'm really in limbo, because even "the project" is not available to work on. I hadn't realized how much I really do on that computer, until it was gone!

The upside to all this is that I'm getting a total upgrade, and will have a most excellent machine once it comes back to me. So my horror at discovering the fan and the processor were somehow glued or melted to each other has become delight in getting a much better system.

Complete with DVD player I might add. A definite bonus in this 'no television' house. I'm making the popcorn already :)

I think I am driving Master crazy with my need to have a tidy house.

It's not so much that it has to be pristine. It's just that with it being so small here, I find a lot of things kicking around makes me edgy. In short, I can't stand it! There's a lot that I've adjusted to, and don't mind at all. As Master says, it's just life, and who cares if the cupboards are in perfect order anyway? Lord knows, my clothes are jumbled up a lot of the time. But they are jumbled out of sight. Therein lies the difference in my mind.

I love being here. I need to reflect that by taking pride in maintaining my surroundings. I want to be able to enter the house and not see a gazillion papers and books and shoes and dirty dishes strewn everywhere. In such tight quarters, it's essential that things don't get cluttered, just for safety's sake! I want my attention to go to the painting that Master bought me. To the half-burned candles on the kitchen table, waiting for our next shared meal together. To the tiny glassed-in cases that hold some of the hand-blown crystal that belonged to His mother. (They are very beautiful, I might add) I want guests to see these things too.

I can't get past the idea that guests judge me by how I keep my home. Yet I envy those whom simply get on with things, and sweep if they feel like it.

I said to Him, "I don't want it took look like we live in a dump." Is that too prideful? That's not the way I intend it. I understand that 'lived in' reflects life and reflects love ...the home's personality and the personalities of those who live in the home. But this is exactly what I hope people see when they enter here. Not some slovenly place, but a place that reflects its inhabitants. And one of those inhabitants likes things to be a bit tidy. Is that so bad? It's not like I wash the floor every other day, or vacuum compulsively. In fact I've known a few very nice dust bunnies in my time. I guess 'presentable' is more the level I'm trying to describe. Well, and keeping the health board at bay.

He mumbled something about "then you should be living with someone as anally 'clean' …" and I was very hurt. I irrationally thought, "you'd get rid of me that easily?" I know I was being silly. But is it so hard to understand that tending this house gives me pleasure? He's gifted me with being able to stay home and pursue some of my greatest dreams. Making His environment a pleasure to be in is something I want to give back in return.

Maybe this urge to 'feather the nest' makes Him nervous. His dismissive wave of the hand, and assertion that He was just fine with things, made me feel like I am just visiting. And I know that was not His intent, but it certainly hit me that way. Yet to be more precise, it made me feel that only His opinion on the topic mattered, and mine was just moot point. Not valid. Perhaps this is one of the D/s things that I have yet to come to terms with. I dread the idea that He could order me not to futz around the house because my mind rebels in protest, hollering the words 'it's my home too!' In this power exchange however, He has final word … does that automatically make His better? Do I accept that in blind faith? If I protest, am I being bratty? Or trying to top from the bottom?

In all fairness though, I remind myself that there ARE two of us here, and He deserves to live in an environment as equally comfortable to His psyche, as I do. And I know He loves having me here as much as I love being here. So I'll keep trying to relax a bit on the clutter. And maybe I'll provide little boxes for Him to toss His clutter into. Then I can just lift them once instead of picking up a gazillion things … the next time I need a dusting/vacuuming/sweeping fix. :)