With a nice honour come drama

On Thursday, I got acknowledged on a platform that I am one of the top reviewers in my area. I am honoured and shared that news, which a friend had tagged me on, on Instagram.

I have another friend that I have known since we were in grade 8. She basically made a stupid, insensitive, unfounded remark in this chat exchange:

"You eat out a lot," she stated.

"Not really. I do takeout twice a week. Reviews aren't all food."

I proceeded to show the last five reviews that I had completed. Only one was a food review. I didn't have to. I did it to prove a point to her.

I was annoyed at her comment. Why can't she simply say congrats? Why make such a ridiculous, random, unfounded statement? I actually told her that it was a momentous occasion for me and to let me enjoy it.

Her statement can also be construed as targeting my weight. I feel that it's some sort of internal issue that she has. She sees a happy moment that I am soaking up and she can't stand it. She needs to ruin my day by lashing out with a false statement about me.

I do have a number of supportive friends who got me through this drama that I was not expecting. I'm so fortunate.

Being taken for granted and dealing with insensitivity

This post is a rant. Frankly, I am tired of dealing with dealing with people who take me for granted and come across as being insensitive.

At work, I have an incompetent colleague. She decided to join a holiday committee to determine what our entire organization should do this year for our holiday company bash. This committee of four people didn't really come up with ideas, other than to have each department in this organization arrange something.

When it came down to my manager asking her was she would recommend, she caved. Instead, she threw the question at me. I told her that it was a horrible action on her part. In the past, I arranged a number of lunches and outings. Heaven forbid, what happens if I get hit by a bus? Who will be your go-to person for organizing such events? I flat out said in front of my team that I should not be the go-to person. I did offer a suggestion, though. I am not lifting a finger because this team can't arrange a thing.

Idiot. The folks in my department can't think for themselves. We also have an incompetent older guy who, every year, says that he's fine with whatever our team comes up with. He can never make a decision on his own. Ugh.

Then, there's my blog. I write what's on my mind. I'm entitled to. It's my blog.

Don't ask me when I am going to self-spank. My mood dictates when. Not you. I don't customize my blog to suit your needs.

Oh, and if you're reading along and you spot a typo, don't point it out to me. It's rude. I don't point out your grammatical or mechanical issues. Why? Because it's rude. I write blog posts before I go to bed. I find it relaxing and therapeutic. I am not perfect. Let the typos slide and cut me some slack.

I am not at work. My blog is my down time. I didn't ask for you to proofread my blog.

So, you found a typo. Does that make you feel good when you tell me to go find it and time how long it takes me to fix it? Who the hell do you think you are? That post was a perfectly joyous one for me and you decided to rain on my parade. Does that make you feel good, too?

This incident feels just like my manager telling me to report an issue to human resources about a field that only he relied on and no one else. He simply had forgotten to wish me a happy ten-year work anniversary and his actions put a damper on that special milestone. 

How about putting away your negativity so that I can enjoy being happy about something? We are in a pandemic. We need something cheerful. One step further: How about thinking about how insensitive you come across when you have to bring up a minor imperfection? It's not the first time that you have pointed it out, either. Let it slide.

And, don't tell me to go find my typo. I'm not playing your hunt-the-typo game. Good for you for finding it. I hope that your achievement makes you feel accomplished and you can sleep well tonight.

I'm done. Frankly, I shouldn't have to write such a post. However, not everyone gets it, or what the effect of their actions or comments is on others.

Thanks for reading along. I have more cheerful content to write about.

Telling the ex that he's an insensitive jerk

Last night, I had a texting conversation with my ex-guy. He is indeed an insensitive jerk.

He wanted to know how I was doing. I said that he didn't need to check up on me. He said okay and wished me goodnight.

That's when I called him an insensitive jerk. He never asked me how I was doing after he had dumped me. He told me to take a pill when I was experiencing anxiety after he broke the news. Why is he so concerned now? It's a facade that he cares. It's a joke.

To make a long story short, he wants our friendship to continue. He doesn't want a relationship. He does want fun and sex. I told him no back in April. It's still no now. If he wants sex without a relationship, perhaps he needs a prostitute. I know that he wouldn't because he's too cheap to pay for this service.

What nerve!

I told him that I hated him. Hate is a strong word, but I do for the pain, anxiety, and sadness that he has caused. I also said that he confirmed last night that he is an insensitive person who only cares about his hard cock, which is where his brain is.

It felt good to say that it was his loss for dumping me -- that he didn't know how good he had it. I also gave him advice to read books on relationships and friendships. He needs all the help he can get. He can post reviews on his YouTube channel and refer back to them, because he sucks at friendships and relationships.

I basically said that I didn't want what little was left of our friendship and told him not to contact me again.

I slept well. It's quite the change from April where I was so upset. I know that I deserve better. It's just sad that I dated a jerk.

I have removed him as a contact on Skype. It felt good getting rid of baggage.

The insensitive jerk called, but didn't leave a lasting impression

The insensitive jerk, also known as my ex-guy, called me just after 21:00 last night. I looked at the number displayed on my phone and let it ring.

As expected, it went to voicemail. He didn't leave a message.

I didn't call him back. I was getting reacquainted with my old mini laptop that has Windows 7 loaded. I haven't booted it up in years. Yes, this old laptop took precedence.

I figure that he has second thoughts about his decision last year to end our relationship. The problem is that he thinks that we can pick up from where we left off. We can't. I can't.

My ex and his YouTube channel

I feel that I need to get rid of my ex-guy as a connection on LinkedIn. It's good that he was never interested in social media, so distancing myself from him on those platforms after he broke my heart has been easy.

He isn't on LinkedIn much. Neither am I. I go on there once every month or two. Well, in my feed wiht twenty notifications was a post from him. He invited people to look at his YouTube channel where he does book reviews.

My eyes rolled. They rolled hard. I checked one video out. I stopped after a minute.

He isn't the guy I fell in love with. All I see is an insensitive jerk who only contacts me these days when he's horny. He looks sincere in the video. I know better. It's a facade.

It took him a year to post these videos. He actually posted these videos in August 2019. I don't know why it took him a year to promote his channel.

I'm glad that he has a hobby. I simply don't want to hear about it.

Crying, but not for being bad

On Monday, my guy and I had a two-hour chatting session over Skype. I have missed him a lot. I know that he feels the same way about me these days.

I asked how he was doing. He immediately said that he was hard, which is his direct way of saying that he wanted to be with me.

We spent Valentine's Day apart, as he was on business. I have never been a huge Valentine's Day person. I had received an e-card from him, which was sweet. It had a pink teddy bear and a bunch of smileys. I happen to love teddy bears and I smile a lot. He liked a humourous e-card that I had sent him. The e-card said that he was delicious and that we should do lunch. It showed a banana, a bagel, a hot dog, and a chocolate-glazed donut.

We talked quite a bit about the last time that he had spent together.

"I liked when you took your shirt off," I said to him quietly.
"It was nice that you tenderly touched my chest and kissed it," he replied. "It was sweet."
"It was everything that I had imagined and more."

We then talked about my getting paddled.

"I liked the noises that you made when I was spanking you," he indicated to me.
"What noises did I make?" I asked him. I had no idea what sounds I had made.
"Every time I spanked you, you held onto me tighter," he reminded me.
"It hurt," I pointed out. "I was nearly in tears by the end of it. I was sore for two days. It was good."
"I love spanking and groping you," he pointed out.

We continued talking about making him come that day.

"You seem turned on by my kissing you as you jerk off," I remarked.
"I am turned on by your full lips," he admitted. "I liked when you fingered my asshole with one of your manicured finger."
"It was good. I'm glad," I said.

We then both got off over the phone. I described how I missed sucking him. He told me that he can't wait to spank my backside with anything he can get his hands on to make it sore for days.

The only downside was that he had made me cry towards the end of our conversation. He didn't mean to. However, after sex, he tends to get in a dopey state of mind in which he doesn't know what he is saying.

"How's your back doing?" he asked me. "It doesn't seem like anything has changed since your surgery."

That statement was hurtful to me. Yes, it is true that my walk before my back surgery is about the same as it is now. My nerves need time to regenerate. There are changes to my pinched nerves that only I can feel. I wasn't expecting to hear such an insensitive statement, especially from him. I couldn't hold my tears any longer.

"I feel like crying," I said, and did just that.
"Oh, don't cry," he said, finally snapping out of dopey mode. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry, sweetness,..."

He apologized practically nonstop for at least a minute. I could tell that he felt bad.

"I wish I was with you, to wipe your tears from your cheeks, to hug you tightly against my chest, and to tell you that you'll be okay."

He felt bad about making me cry. 

"I should have just asked you how your back was. I didn't have to garnish it with an idiotic comment," he explained.

He made me laugh. He felt better.

"You always laugh when I curse and call myself names," he remarked. He was right.

The best part about him trying to dig himself out of the hole that he had made was this remark:

"If it's any consolation to you, your back is getting better. I could tell when we were in the car," he said.
"What you really want to say is that when I sucked your cock, you knew that my back was fine," I said bluntly, which made us both laugh.
"I didn't want to word it that way, but it was what I had meant," he admitted.

Sure, my guy unintentionally hurt me, but his heart was in the right place. I was hoping that he would spank me until I cried. I wasn't expecting to cry this way. Maybe when he's back in town again, he can make up for his blunder. Perhaps I should put him over my knee and administer his first spanking.