2004-07-20 @ 3:40 p.m.
|Sometimes when I’m going through hard times like now, I’ll suddenly veer off in some oddball behavior (we’ll blame it on my bipolar affliction, since today during my shrink session, virtually everything that happened up at the nanny job, was somehow related to or the result of MY ILLNESS I was told, rather than anyone else’s fault).
This last week, I’ve practically been at the verge of suicide the whole week, since things seem so incredibly bleak, that somewhere in the middle of it all, I took a break and laid my boobs down on my scanner and scanned the girls in the name of Art. Hey, it helped divert me from crying for about 15 minutes. It took two runs to get it right. The first one had my nipples all squashed up and they looked like two chicken breasts shortly before breading. But the second one was so much better. Cute little breasts with cute little pinkish nipples.
And then I took the image into Photoshop and further enhanced the beauty of the image. What I really did, was lop off one boob and concentrate on one delicious booby, applying a dark purple background, and a light magenta color around the areola. I applied text too. First it said: Breasts are beautiful. Yuck too generic. And then I typed: “In Praise of the Almighty Nipple”, since my nipple was very erect and pretty. I wrote it in script. Hey, my first Hallmark Card...right next to the...um...Mother’s Day Cards? I also made a second version which was slightly naughtier. It said, “Lick Me”.
I had briefly considered putting it alongside the other pieces of artwork next to the text on my website, but I know so nosy nellie would have to write me a note and say, “Gee Witty, who’s tit is that?” And I would blush and stutter and say, ummm, gee, stock photo off Google. Honest!
Also there’s someone I know who reads this blog on a regular basis, and to be honest, I’m not sure if I’m ready for him to see my cute little areola quite yet. And you know who you are. Maybe sometime in the next ten weeks, but not right now.
But damn, I was so happy with the way the image turned out, I really wanted to send it out to someone I knew. It was so pretty. Married Guy? No. Better not. I talked to him briefly last night. I think he’s mad at me. Not angry I hate you mad...but Married Guy’s form of mad. I’ll talk to you, but we’ll have no emotional connection, because I’m giving you the subtle cold shoulder madness. And I think its all over me not telling him about the nanny job before I went up and took the job. So all my dreams of lust filled romps in the sleigh bed have been hopelessly dashed, because of my own stupidity (as usual) and again, I am all alone.
Everyone happy? (and you know who you are).
Of course I saw “A” today. I did some more Olympic style crying. I guess he finally talked to Sir G, and what was said really, really hurt me. He said I wasn’t any good with the kids, and that my “illness” (that being Bipolar Disorder), really played a significant role in my failure as a nanny. That made me so angry. How would that asshole even know how I treated his kids. He was barely home and then when he was, his tongue was dripping saliva over all the Match.Com girls who were supposedly lining up for a gander at his wankie. (And to think, I got a freebie!) He didn’t even talk to his kids, except to yell at them to take out the garbage, and to scream at them over the intercom system to shut up. Those kids are going to be so fucked up when they’re older. I pity the shrink who gets that assignment in ten years.
And in regards to me being bipolar, well you know what, I’d much rather be bipolar, than be an asshole, because at least when you’re bipolar, there’s medication to take for that.
Oh and “A” asked why I didn’t leave the first day. I’m not sure why nobody seems to understand this. I FELT OBLIGATED TO FULFILL MY OBLIGATION AND I NEEDED THE FUCKING MONEY! Ok, everyone? We straight on that one? I know all you rich folk don’t usually bounce checks, but when you do, ya gotta replace the money somehow, and that was my only shot....watching itchy pants take his clothes off in my presence.
So now I’m only waiting for one more rejection this week. Married Guy told me he was going to certain nationally known attraction with his sons this week on Thursday and I literally pleaded with him to go. I know I’m setting myself up for rejection, but I said, I really needed a change of scenes, and that I would be really well behaved, and not cry at all, and that I really wanted to be part of a loving family unit for several hours and I even added that I rarely ask him for favors (which I don’t). I think he will probably say no, because this is just the kinds of thing for him and his sons to go to, and why bring along that nut wittykitty, etc.etc.etc.
But on the very outside possibility that he says yes, I could really have fun on this little side trip. I’d get to be with Married Guy and his sons for probably about 5 hours. I’d get out of town. I’d have fun. I’d hopefully heal wounds with Married Guy, and maybe even be happy. What a concept!
I realize I’m treading dangerous water “A”, wishing for something like this, but I really just need something happy to happen to me this week. I really deserve it, even if I scanned my boobs on the scanner, bipolars deserve a little happiness once in a while. Pretty please?
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty