Butch hissy-fits aren’t pretty

I haven’t blogged in a long time. Tons of good reasons and even more excuses as to why. But now is not the time to get into all of that. There are things banging around inside of me that need to get said, explored, examined, tested & debunked. Again, though, this isn’t that post.

Actually, at nearly midnight on a weeknight, when I should be resting for another long, challenging workday ahead, I shouldn’t be blogging at all. Rest & recharging should be my priority. I’m instead lying in the dark fuming about something I shouldn’t even be upset about.

My bed was stripped & linens washed without warning while I was at work. I didn’t see it before I went to get ready for bed and had to scramble, at 11 o’clock at night, to find bedding & make the bed.

Yeah, I know: lucky you to have someone do something so thoughtful, so what’re you complaining about?

I’ve railed and ranted inside my head about why this pisses me off. I’ve internally lived out the most likely discussion that would occur should I address this irrationally irksome situation to my well-loved family member who precipitated my thoroughly bad humor. And I’ve had a stern, frank, bracing argument with my inner-complainer about why this is not the battle to pick and how trivial and unworthy of my energy this issue is.

Yet, here I sit. I’m still ticked off that this stupid thing happened. I’m still baffled at the rudeness and presumption I feel has been shown by someone I never expected had the capacity for such carelessness. And now I’m also ashamed at myself for feeling so strongly about something so minor, insignificant and, in all likelihood, unintentional.

Honestly, how was she to know that her helpfulness would so thoroughly piss me off?

So what’s my real problem? I miss my Lulu so badly that suddenly losing the scent of her hair on the pillowcase stabs at my heart so painfully that it’s either rage or bawl like a baby. Neither is a rational, sane, mature adult response to so small a thing. Yet that’s where I am.

I know that it had to happen eventually. I was planning to clean up the room, do laundry & all the rest of my neglected chores this weekend. But I’d also planned to hang onto that pillowcase for a little while longer. And now that I don’t have that option, or the scent of her hair to fall asleep with, I’ve lost a bit of my grip on rationality.

Sometimes being a strong butch really bites.

2 comments so far

  1. lesbiannefree on

    Well. I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head as I was reading this, wondering how I myself would react. First, I woulda been ticked that I had to remake a bed when I wasn’t planning to – then I realized if bed and been changed and remade I would have been fine with that. (I hate housework in general)
    THEN you mentioned about Lulu. THAT changes the whole thing. I know exactly how much it means to have that comforting reminder – that bites and I am sad for your loss.
    I dunno what I would do in same situation – lamenting in writing certainly, knowing there will be some who understand. But for me I would still have lingering feelings about it. Probably admitting my loss and missing and letting myself cry my feelings out would be a good thing, rather than stew as I naturally might. It can’t be undone.
    The one positive thought I had is that Lulu will come again and then you will once again have sweet reminders.
    Until then, I offer a comforting hug.

    • Searching4Self2013 on

      Thank you. Oddly, if it weren’t for the loss of her scent on the pillow, I wouldn’t have been upset at all. Really, someone does me a huge favor like that, I’m ordinarily over the moon! But in this, I can’t help but mourn. You’re right, tho; she’ll be back again. And until then, she’s gonna send me something to take it’s place. So I’m nearly over it. Thanks for the support & understanding. đŸ™‚

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