So I was cruising around FetLife, looking for something to inspire a rant or some deep thought or…  whatever.  Cuz, yanno, life in the Taylor y puss casa has been damned quiet and normal and uneventful for a damned long time.  (For those who may not know, puss = me.  Taylor calls me puss)  And

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I’ve discovered that not getting enough sleep, getting interrupted sleep or even thinking I’m not going to get enough sleep is enough to turn me into a demon. I lash out while I’m sleeping at any touch, the slightest elbow jab, a pillow stuffed over on my side of the bed that doesn’t belong there,

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I’ve talked a gazillion times about expectations.  I have.  I know I have. I also know that to let myself have a bunch of expectations about something pretty much sets me up to be disappointed. But I think I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not the expectations themselves… It’s unspoken, uncommunicated expectations.  Those types

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Taylor is thiiiiiiiiis close to having the bike put back together and running for the season and, guess what? They’re forcasting snow for Saturday and Tuesday.   Whiskey Tango Foxtrot????? Wisconsin sometimes sucks ass. ——————————- I told Taylor to shut up this morning and had a damned fit over absolutely nothing. There are times I

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There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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And I do mean ever elusive.Everyone talks about it. Some seem to drop deep into it after just a few minutes. In 17 years I’ve never experienced it. I do not know what y’all are talking about. Honest to gods. I have, many times, been over the reasons why I like, need, crave and submit

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