Bath time is a time where I reflect on my day. I think of all the things that have occurred from the
Bath time is a time where I reflect on my day. I think of all the things that have occurred from the moment I opened my sleep stained eyes to when I submerge my aching body into the Himalayan abyss that awaits me after a long day at work. This morning it started off with me thinking I probably could’ve handled my night with the kids differently. Frustration got the best of me and put me in a fowl mood at 1 in the morning. That was followed by me thinking “hmm I could’ve made my love some breakfast this morning, but those few extra moments of sleep were bliss. Maybe tomorrow.” The next tidal wave to slam down upon my morning confusion was “holy crap I have an important job interview today! I actually have to do my hair and iron an EXTRA set of clothes” Next the hurricane that is my presence barreled through the house getting my hair down, breakfast to eat on the road made (for myself), clothes ironed, babies fed and packed away, all my necessities squared away and finally packing the tiny tots in their seats. Needless to say the hurricane left some debris. At work I worried about the multiple orders that were thrown my way in no way neat at all. Rude customers and just plain bad attitude colleagues. All the while I am stressing to the max about leaving on time for the interview. I aced the interview. Loved my personality. Just isn’t the position that was originally offered. I get to work my way there. Which I am 100% fine with doing. I can show I deserve it. Just a little bumming for the rest of my day. Kind of. Went back to work where I had a lot Of regulars come in and make the night worth while. Made some money. Also lost my temper. The kitchen is magical place full of dimwits. I was my for my customers and my fellow workers. Came home and ate a healthy meal. Played with my daughter. Got a massage by my love. Now I am here. In the bath. Talking to y’all. I had an eventful day. I wouldn’t change it. It was a rather good day. However tomorrow can be better. Future me, be better. Even if it’s just making Love a cup of tea in the morning or waking up and doing your hair again. Depression is hard. Postpartum is god awful. Anxiety kills my soul. I am more than those diagnoses though. I get better everyday. I smile more each day. I laugh and mean it often. I will be better. -- source link
#bath time#bathtub#bath thoughts#little#ddlg blog#dominated#submissive#anxiety#depression