Come On Girl


Get your sexy on.

Honestly.

All I really want to get on right now is some tea.

Sigh.

End of week school night slumber party may not have been so well advised, but this was it, tonight, or nada.

I have to say eight hours into a ten-hour day I was pretty much contemplating cancelling, I have a share tomorrow when I normally have a single and it will not be a late start to my day, but my normal 8:45 a.m. start.

Which means a 6:30 a.m. get up time.

Then I got a text asking if we were still on tonight and well, my body responded and said, shut up brain, all a tingle and a glow, “yes!”

Yes.

Yes.

Yes, please.

And so, yes, we are on.

Of course when I got home just minutes ago I was back to the, I want to cancel mode, I don’t feel sexy, I feel like a grungy nanny who has been doing grungy nanny work all day long.

I feel like someone who worked a ten-hour day and spent an additional two hours of my day on MUNI.

First the N-Judah to the 24 to work, then the 24 up to the Castro from the NOPA after my nanny share was over, with a solo monkey, who’s folks were going to be late with work, so I ferried him home on the bus.

Then eventually, after dinner time, bath time, snuggle time, and song time, I left to get back on the 24 to the N-Judah to home.

Sigh.

I get home and the first thing I do is disrobe.

I mean.

I don’t know what it is, along with putting up my hair (which is down, since I have a date), I strip down and climb into my yoga pants and a night-shirt.

Then I make tea, thinking about what I am going to blog, and I ice my ankle down.

Which, thank god, was not so bad today, not sure what it was, I did take it easy today and only went to Alamo Square park with the charges and I rested while they were napping.

I even got in a little nap snack, maybe twenty minutes or so, to rest up.

I am starting to feel my mojo come back, I think I was just frustrated too, with the later start to the date than we had previously discussed.

Things happen and when I got the text with the eta it was later than we had discussed.

I wanted to throw a temper tantrum.

Not sexy.

Ugh.

What am I going to do?

I bemoan my fate.

Ok.

Perhaps I am a little dramatic, I mean, really, I am complaining because my lover is going to be taking a little extra time to do something for himself that will probably make our experience better anyhow, so, chill ladybug.

Chill.

I also realized that I was uncomfortable with being dressed when I got home, I like to relax, I want to put my feet up, at least one of them anyway, I want to drink my tea and change into my comfy clothes.

So I did.

Sexy is not what you wear, or what I wear, it’s how I feel.

And if I feel grumpy and frumpy and nanniefied, I won’t be putting out a sexy vibe even in my cute outfit which I picked out this morning specifically because I figured it could weather a ten-hour nanny shift and still bear a resemblance to be sexy.

Besides, the man has seen me naked for Pete’s sake.

I don’t think he’s paying much attention to what I am wearing.

Hell, the first time I was in a walking boot and hobbling around on crutches, I already look sexier than that.

And you know, I am feeling it now.

I stopped my blogging, I striped out of the work clothes, spritzed a little perfume on myself, mussed up the hair, took it down, and slid into some Hello Kitty pajama pants and my new  Day of the Dead night-shirt.

I felt better immediately.

And no surprise, much sexier.

The other thing that is sexy, is taking care of myself.

Which means, having my night-time snack, making myself a little tea (a balance for sure, no one wants to feel overfull when imminent coitus is about to occur, nor do I want to get out of bed fifteen times to pee), writing my blog and taking care of my things.

I have my alarm set.

I have my lunch and dinner set out for tomorrow.

I wrote out a check for Healthy San Francisco and balanced my check book.

I tidied up, not that there’s much to tidy, I am a pretty neat person, and now that my ducks are in a row and my blog near writ and my pajamas on (I did concede to still wearing my bra, I just don’t know that I can meet a lover at the door without one on, that feels too casual, which is again, a hoot, I don’t think he cares, but I do.  And I like the slowing down a bra provides and it’s not the bra I wore to work, it’s hot pink, matches the Hello Kitty pants, heh) I feel better and I know that as soon as he texts.

“I’m here”

I will get a jolt.

And as soon as he kisses me.

I will forget the world, the work, the MUNI, the unsexy and I will unspool and unwind in the best relaxation anyone could ask for, happily provided by the letter “O” and the number “More.”

Tomorrow will take care of itself and I will get through the day just fine.

Probably with a happy smile on my face for most of it.

Who’s sexy now?

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