His Tool of Choice

Right now, it is the flogger.  I'm ok with that.  I am better than ok with that.  For our weekly stress relief I get a pleasant rain of leather across my back.  It does get hard to take at times.  I have to stay very still for the floggers.  He really gets them moving and can't always pull back if I wiggle out of place.

The floggers don't have the same dread the paddles do.  They have never been used for discipline.  They are never used for punishment.  Only for pleasure.  The point is re-connection not more stress between the two of us.  It works.  Some might call it BDSM but I call bull on that.  It is simply us, reaffirming our roles and letting off some steam from a stressful week.  It helps us get ready to face a new week.

No job yet.  Haven't heard back from several promising interviews and we have had several negative replies.  I understand.  It is a tuff job market right now.  Age matters in his line of work and no one wants to hire someone so close to mandatory retirement.  Blag.  I thought the days of age discrimination were behind us.  Guess not.  He checks his job search engine several times a day and adds more applications as positions open.

I can't motivate myself to get the house ready for another move.  With so many unknowns i don't know where to start.  I have a sewing room full of projects with dead lines.  That is a very good thing.  It gives my hands and mind something productive to do.

One day at a time.  One hour, one minute, one second.