Musings of a Submissive

Vignettes and glimpses into a sometimes kinky, but a lot of times vanilla and boring life.
1 month ago. Fri 07 Sep 2018 07:20:47 AM IDT

Nights like tonight, my bed feels extra empty. It’s a queen size bed, but tonight it feels too big. It’s a reminder. 

Tonight is one of those nights I wish I had a man next to me. Not just any man though; I wish it was a man I know loves me unconditionally and who I love unconditionally. I wish it was my man, calmly breathing next to me as we both are in the twilight of sleep - enjoying knowing we’re together, just us, just our presence, our breathing in harmony as we start to drift into sleep. A man who at the end of the day, I came home to in the most boring and ordinary of ways, as we enjoyed the mundane routine of unwinding after a long day of work knowing we made it to the last day of the work week. Someone I could give a gentle, soft goodnight kiss and I love you to. I want the mundane and ordinary and the things people take for granted. I want the little moments that build a life together.

But my too big and empty bed reminds me of something that never was, never has been, currently isn’t, and for the foreseeable future never will be. Just because I’ve been patiently waiting for my turn in the sun doesn’t make it hurt any less. It makes hope grow bleaker, the emptiness grow larger, and the sadness stuck to my bones like the chill in the last days of winter that you just can’t shake off. 

After so much work and investment in myself, it’s a shame that I don’t have that someone who sees everything I have to offer while it’s not too late. And it makes me sad that I don’t have someone who sees my worth AND loves me for all of me all at the same time. 


Melancholy is the word. 

1 month ago. Wed 05 Sep 2018 04:55:18 AM IDT

I’m a dork and I’m listening to The Wedding Song (There is Love) by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I have a special place in my heart for folksy/singer songwriter music.

Anyway, the past while (few days? Week? My life?) I’ve been trying to think of what my ‘perfect’ partner would be. Of course, cynical part of me immediately says not to bother because I don’t tend to have things go my way. But, much to my cynical side’s chagrin, I’m compiling the list anyway and putting it out into the universe or whatever the hell that means.

-He’s not afraid to be goofy. Sometimes he photobombs strangers’ pictures to get a giggle, or does something annoying but in a mischievous way just to make me laugh, or do something spontaneous like bombard me with silly string me as I’m walking into the house or maybe he sees a nerf gun and decides its battle royale time.

-He’s not afraid to look stupid for a good cause. Ever see the video of the dad that gets on stage with his daughter during her ballet recital because she’s scared and starts doing the ballet routine with them so she stops crying? Yeah. That kind of looking stupid.

-He’s not afraid to be vulnerable. He may be a hard-ass 99.999999% of the rest of the time, but with me he isn’t afraid to cry, vent, be the little spoon, and be genuine in his vulnerability. It’s fucking terrifying to be vulnerable. I know the one time I was in truly in love and completely vulnerable, I got fucked up real good (thanks exbestfriend). But, even if it’s 0.00000000001% of me, I begrudgingly admit that I still have that minuscule amount of me that has hope that one day I can be vulnerable with someone and not be fucked over and that my vulnerability and his vulnerability can coexist and be cared for by each other, as a team, together.

-He’s got to be able to step back and say, “yep, I was an asshole. I’m sorry.” We all have days. I know I certainly have my days and absolutely have times where I need to step back and be like “yep. I was being a crazy bitch and I’m sorry.” Apologies are a two way street so swallow the pride and do your best to step back and refocus. I know it’s something I’m personally working on.

-He’s not afraid to be moody and he’s not afraid when I’m moody. Again, we all have our days. Coexisting with someone can be exhausting. Sometimes, alone time and space is needed. Even having your own “space” where you live is important. A bedroom or office or something that’s just yours. Your partner has no say in that room because it’s yours and it’s a safe haven for when we’re moody and need a no judgement zone.

-He’s tender. This is so so so so so so so important for me. If you’ve read the five love languages, you’ll know that touch is one of them. I crave and need gentle, tender, loving caresses. I need someone to hold me and stroke my hair or back just because they felt like it. Someone who just kisses me sweetly for no other reason than they love me so much. Someone who grabs my hand randomly while we’re out in public just because, or comes up behind me to give me a hug from behind regardless of where we are. Those tender moments that communicate how much you love each other without ever saying a word. I’ve never had that. I’ve never been made love to. I’ve never had someone love me like that. And it’s something that I’ve needed and will need and it makes me sad that I’ve never experienced or will likely ever have that (hey cynical side). For me, touch reassures me, and communicates so much - but it can also devastate me. I need someone to touch me wisely.

-He’s not afraid to dance with me. Even if it’s a slow dance in the kitchen or a dance party in the living room. Dance with me, even if you’re not good at it. I’m not that good at it either.

-He does little things and is thoughtful without expectation. Maybe he notices that my car needs gas and fills it up, or sees a candy bar that he knows I like and buys it for me. Maybe he sees that I’m trying to hold it all together when I’m not okay, and he grabs my hand and says “let me take care of this for you.” He does little thing without the expectation of getting anything back (knowing full well I do all sorts of random and spontaneous little things for him regardless as well).

-He’s got to have stuff other than me, and I can’t be his entire life. I want him to go out and do things he likes to do regardless of whether or not I want to tag along. He can’t give up everything just to have the world revolve around me. His hobbies and interests are just as important, and he needs to be able to get away and have man time, just like I need to go do woman time. For me, being so centered around each other ALL of the time is suffocating. Plus, sometimes distance makes the heart grow fonder, and I get to see his eyes light up when he talks about the (insert thing I know nothing about but something he loves). I love seeing that love in people’s eyes.

-He’s not afraid to be my Dom and he’s not afraid to be Vanilla. I love sex. Personally, I need a good mix of both. It keeps it interesting. Plus sometimes I love seeing my man be my man, and other times I love when he’s tender and sweet.

-He’s someone that says, “she’s mine. That’s my lady,” when I’m across the room / not within earshot. I want to be able to say “That’s my man” in the same way too. I want him to be proud of me and I want to be proud of him.

-I know that I personally don’t want kids of my own. If he has kids from a previous relationship, you best believe I’m gonna love the shit out of those kids too because it’s a package deal. I love kids and think they’re hysterical. But I know I personally don’t want my own, and he needs to be okay with that.

-He eventually wants to get married. I don’t need a ring right this second and don’t have a five year plan. But I’d still love to get married when the time is right - whether it’s a year or ten years into our relationship.

-He values experiences over things. Don’t get me wrong, I love things. Sometimes it’s nice to have nice things. I believe in having a quality bed and linens. I’d rather spend more money knowing it will last a long time than just buy cheap stuff. But on the same token, I would much rather live in a studio apartment with a couple nice things knowing my money is going towards concert tickets and traveling the world and experiencing life because life is too short not to do whatever the fuck you want, rather than have a mansion knowing I’m stuck there with it and my things. I’ve never seen a U-haul behind a hearse and I’m pretty sure there are pyramids in Egypt full of things that the Pharaohs haven’t come to collect.

-He wants to be my partner just as much as I want to be his, knows all of the above is a two way street and applies from me to him also. Compromise and partnership is a two way street. I can’t expect these things without, at the absolute least, be willing to give the same to him.


Sigh. I’m sure there’s more. But those are the core things I’d love in a partner. Maybe he’s out there and most likely my expectations are too high so I should get a couple cats.

1 month ago. Sat 01 Sep 2018 07:42:21 PM IDT

treading very, very carefully.

Dude has gotten..maybe out of his funk a little? I’ve backed off and had all of our texts the past week or so be strictly friend zone making sure he’s ok convos. I’ll go a couple days without texting him, then text him to make sure he’s ok because I am legit worried about him, and know that for him to deal he needs space. But the past few days, he’s actually been reaching out first, which is nice. It feels like he’s putting in effort again, at least friend wise.

But on Wednesday and he actually got his sex drive back apparently. He initiated some dirty texts which I obliged and dirty texted back (I haven’t had a man pay attention to me like that in a while...except if you count the drunk dude at Pearl Jam trying to give me a hickey). I would have gone over but at that point I still had stitches in my mouth from dental work, so no face slapping or bjs or ass eating (huge bummer cause I like doing all of those things. Honestly the face slapping won’t be able to happen for a while so the tooth implant can set and any BJs have to be gentle so it doesn’t dislodge. But I digress). Not that I couldn’t have gone over but I think it was good I just got him off via text because I don’t want to jump into that just yet. Easing back into it, maybe, but I don’t want to get hurt again. Maybe he caught a quick wind and I don’t want to get my hopes up that he’ll want to continue fucking me.

I’m still keeping him at a distance in the physical/sexual sense until I can properly gauge where he’s at with what he wants - or at least in a stable place with what he wants at that moment in his life. I just don’t want to ruin our friendship that we do have and have had for so long. I’ve known him as a friend longer than I’ve known he was a Dom, and I do value our friendship. Sex complicates things. So. The steps back are still in place with tentative and carefully treading baby steps forward. Of course, I can feel my walls tightening with cynicism and skepticism, which is fine. We’ll see where this takes us. Sigh.

1 month ago. Wed 29 Aug 2018 05:53:35 AM IDT

I really am out of my damn mind. I got some new ink for my uncle that passed last weekend, as well as the one that passed in March. They were both married to my moms sisters. The tattoo is three hearts on my forearm drawn by one of Eddie Vedder’s friends while he was on stage, and that inspired writing the Pearl Jam song Smile. I think of them when I hear certain Pearl Jam songs so I found it fitting as a tribute to both of them. 


Thing is - my tattoo artist is exbestfriend. That’s right, the one that broke my heart. And ironic that he’s the only person I trust to tattoo me because I know tattooing is the one thing he won’t fuck up. I respect talent and skills when I see it, even if I don’t like the person. It’s the core of who I am - there’s good in every bad and bad in every good. Ted Nugent is a phenomenal guitar player and Kanye West puts out some sick beats, but I don’t know that I’d ever get along with them as people. But I digress. 


Conversation flowed easily but I felt nothing looking at him. My walls were up, feelings completely numbed out, and he got very little out of me other than superficial small talk. It’s so hard to explain the juxtaposition of comfort around him and ease in our conversation but at the same time feeling like he’s a complete stranger. 


It was...strange. Maybe it was the full moon on Sunday causing the weirdness this week. One man was the best sex of my life and the other was the love of my life - and any feelings I had for them have been cauterized. I’ve never felt so much....nothing while looking at or thinking of a person. At least the dude I can still call friend. Exbestfriend, well, he’s just...a familiar stranger. It was civil and I do have to admit he is super repentant and has been for a while. But the likelyhood of he and I being friends the way we were or me loving him like I did are zero.


Life is weird and I’m just here scratching my head as to what to make of it. More questions than answers, friends. More questions than answers. So I’ll just lay here and let the thunderstorm rock me to sleep. 

1 month ago. Tue 28 Aug 2018 05:54:32 AM IDT

*Takes a deep breath*

I’ve been a rollercoaster of emotions this past week. Thank you kind people of the cage for letting me be irrational, allowing me to vent, and have a nice little bout of anxiety. Writing gets everything out of the prison of my mind, and sometimes it just needs to be let out so I can walk away for a minute then come back and reassess. 

I feel myself cauterizing the Dude out of any non-platonic emotion. I feel like I can’t call him Sir right now. And that’s ok. Let’s be honest he hasn’t been much of a Sir for a few months now. So platonic it is and shall be until he gets his shit together. Cynical part of me says it’ll be platonic even if/when he does get his shit together. 


I try to feel something towards him other than him being a friend and nothing more, but I can’t. I don’t have it in me right now. Maybe my subconscious is just cementing those walls even higher than they were before or is just protecting me. But trust me when I say that Mt. Everest pales in comparison to my walls. In any case, knowing that the emotions of him being an intimate partner are suspended and cauterized makes me sad. He honestly was the best sex of my life and I honestly don’t believe that I’ll find anyone that comes close to that. Maybe that’s selfish to think, but at least it’s honest. But I need to protect myself without losing a friend. 

He is legitimately depressed and is withdrawing. I can’t save him as a lover and I can’t save him as a friend. As a lover, I’ve given him a lot and he’s choosing not to take it. His loss. His opportunity to have me is rescinded until further notice. I can guarantee he’ll never find a heart like mine, regardless of whether it’s as a fwb or as an actual partner.

All I can do is be his friend, and let him know I care but I can’t do anything more. I’ve taken a few steps back. If he chooses to wake up and come after me, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Otherwise, friends it shall be. I haven’t had this conversation with him because, well, he’s not able to have any sort of conversation like that right now. At least, his actions have proven themselves to be this case. He’s got to work through his own shit and I can’t wait around for him. He’ll always have a special place in my memories, and he’ll always be welcome in my home. That will never change. I’ll retain the possibility of something in the future but I’m not counting or planning on it. 

Time waits for no one and I’ve got to move forward. I know that before I let anyone else touch me, I need to evaluate what I want and what I need.

So. Here I am and so it shall be. 

1 month ago. Mon 27 Aug 2018 01:20:06 AM IDT

Maybe it’s just because I’m extra emotional right now but is it wrong that I’m feeling really angry and upset and starting to question everything with the Dude? Maybe I’m just overreacting and displacing whatever the fuck emotion, but I can only stand so much bullshit. Maybe he really is depressed. But maybe he isn't. I don't fucking know. 

I texted Dude to see how his day was a few minutes ago, and of course he said that he was still stressed mentioned he’s lost almost 18 pounds because he’s stressed. So, instead of texting, I called him because in my opinion it’s better to talk. Only he hit the f-you button pretty much immediately. I texted him and was like, hey I just tried to call. His immediate response? “I know. Don’t really feel like talking”. In my own pain I’m trying to give a shit about him because I know he’s stressed and he’s being vague about it, and I don’t want him to hurt alone.  But I can’t even get him in a room and now I can’t even get him on the god damn phone. I get people have their own shit and problems they’re going through, but I can only stand so many excuses before I start thinking that there’s something broken and wrong and unworthy about me – more so than I already do.

Is it me? Do I smell? Am I an annoyance to you? Or am I just overreacting? In any case, I’m starting to not be able to give him the benefit of the doubt because he won’t fucking communicate with me. Maybe he really is depressed and withdrawing. I can't help you if you don't want it. I can't be there for you if you push me away.  And at this point, he hasn’t touched me in almost three months, I haven’t seen him since his birthday over a month ago, and literally me just trying to talk to him warrants a “I just don’t feel like talking.” I’m really just starting to feel like it’s me and he just won’t man up and say it to my face that I’m a worthless sack of shit and that he’s over me. And if it really isn’t me, he’s not making his case or anything better.

I just sent him a text saying “well, then I’ll let you be for the rest of your night. I’m really worried about you. When you are up for talking, my phone is always on. I think it would be good for us to talk. Have a good night”. All I got back was “you too.” After a certain point of excuses and rejection, I think it’s reasonable to start assuming that it’s me, until told otherwise. And at this point, I really fucking doubt I’ll ever get an answer. But maybe that's just the cynical part of me that sneers in the back of my mind saying back to myself, "see. You aren't even good enough for an explanation.You're not good enough. You will never be good enough. Why the fuck do  you even try? You're not worthy of true friendship, which means you're sure as hell not worthy to be loved."

I feel like I give and give and give and give and get nothing but shit back. I have no expectations of getting anything back, but I do and it's all shit. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t he just fucking talk to me? Why don’t I have it in me to just not give a shit? Why the fuck do I care so god damn much about everyone? I really really wish I could just not give a fuck sometimes.  I don’t understand why people think I’m some fragile little flower. I’ve been through more shit than people know. Why can’t people just fucking be honest with me? I personally respect people more when they’re honest with me, especially when it’s regarding a difficult subject. There is very little that anyone can’t talk out with me. I believe in multiple chances and compromise. I know I do things that piss people off. But for the love of god just fucking talk to me. I can't fix whatever the fuck I'm doing wrong if you don't fucking tell me. There are literally only two people on the face of this earth that I’m past the point of “talking it out” with – my mother, and my ex-best friend. Those are the only two people in this world that I don’t know if I’ll fully ever forgive. But apparently people think otherwise cause that's the feedback I'm being shown. 

Yes, I give people more chances than what they need. Yes, I forgive when I shouldn’t because sometimes peace is a hell of a lot better than being right. But don’t mistake my silence and kindness for weakness because I know more thank you think and will choke you with the same hand I fed you with.

1 month ago. Sun 26 Aug 2018 07:44:24 PM IDT

Shortly after I posted last night, my uncle passed. It was quick, easy, and quiet. No fuss, just the way he wanted. If there’s any song that describes his and my aunt’s relationship, it’s this one. Funny enough, he looked like a short and stocky Alan Jackson.

Rest well, big guy. 


1 month ago. Sun 26 Aug 2018 05:27:22 AM IDT

My heart is heavy tonight. It's been heavy for a while, but especially tonight. 

Less than 24 hours after I left, my uncle was transferred from hospice at home to the hospice wing at the hospital because of some issues I won't go into on here. As of this afternoon, his body is starting to shut down. He is still conscious but not enough to respond to questions verbally. The nurses say that he's nearing it, and it shouldn't be more than a week - likely only a few days. More than anything, I just want him not to hurt. I know how hard this is for my aunt and cousins. He's still so young; he's only 67.

As a back story, he is married to my mom's sister who is also my Godmother.She babysat my brother and I a lot, so I spent my entire childhood with a second set of parents and siblings in the form of my aunt, uncle, and two cousins. My love of Pearl Jam comes from that home; when I think about their home when they lived here, Pearl Jam was often playing in the background. The song Just Breathe was played at my other uncle's funeral earlier this year. So their music has a special place for me. 

My mom is one of 12 kids, and they grew up in a threeflat in Chicago. My uncle started renting a room from my grandparents when my mom was still fairly young (maybe 8 or 9), and even when they sold that three flat he just came with to the next house. He's been a part of the family for that long, and he and my aunt have been married 42 years. He loves the Three Stooges, specifically Curly. I can hear my uncle doing the noises that Curly used to do. I have nothing but good memories of him. He has no enemies. Not one. He has always been a hard worker, and the quiet stoic type but with the best laugh and kindest eyes. 42 years of being married, 47 of being a couple, and many more of knowing each other. I hope someday I have a love like that. 

I've been doing a lot of thinking this past week. A lot of searching. More questions than answers. I texted the Dude last Sunday, because I can't stay irritated with people long like that. It's hard for me to be mad, irritated or stay any of those unless something HUGE happens. When I texted him, I knew something was off. He's got a lot of circumstances that are happening and leaving him in a lot of uncertainty. He's in a depression of his own, the worst he's had in a long time. He tends to isolate himself a lot when he gets depressed, so on top of my questioning whether or not he wants me anymore paired with knowing that a lot of the pushing away is because that's how he copes with it - it's just worrying. At this point I'm more worried about him and there's only so much I can do. The lows are so unbearable, and knowing that it can't be fixed is breaking my heart. I just want to cuddle up next to him and hold him and tell him it will all be okay, but at the same time I know how he needs to cope. So all I've been doing is checking in every day because that's all I can do. 

I have so much spinning around in my head. I'm so lonely. What does all of this craziness we call life mean? Why are people taken so soon? Why do we have to hurt in so many different ways? When I do I get my turn in the sun? Why am I the way I am and why did so much shit get thrown at me the way it did throughout my life? 


I don't have the answers. Just a heavy, hurting heart, more questions than answers, prayers, and music. I'll leave you all with the songs I've had on repeat this last week as I think and contemplate and breathe and keep moving forward. Time stops for no one.

1 month ago. Sat 25 Aug 2018 12:26:35 AM IDT

I’ve sat down to write this a few times but it’s just felt… Off.  So here we go for another try.

The 72 hours of I’m Out of My Damn Mind has come to a close. I left my apartment at 2:30a.m. on Saturday, drove to O’Hare, my flight to Phoenix took off at 5:00a.m. and I was landing in Phoenix by 6:30 a.m. local time (8:30 am back in Chicago). Here’s where the adventure started. I made it all the way to the car rental building via the shuttle and as I went to pay for my rental car, I couldn’t find my wallet. So there I was in Phoenix, no money, no ID, and no idea what to do. Of course I immediately hopped back on the shuttle to the airport and started trying to call customer service for the airline I was on. No ID/Driver’s license means I can’t rent a car (or even get on a plane back home for that matter), which means I’m stuck in Phoenix until at least Monday with no money until I could go to the DMV to see if I could get a temporary ID/Driver’s license.  The rep was less than helpful, so as I hung up, the man next to me said, “Hey, I couldn’t help but over hear your predicament. I have status with the airline, let me call concierge for you and see what they can do.” Long story short this amazing stranger was able to get me directed in the right direction and THEY FOUND MY WALLET. Oh good lord would I have been screwed. I was reminded of good people out there. I am eternally grateful to this wonderful guy. I so wish I could remember what his last name was so I could look him up and thank him, but my mind was moving so fast and I was on the edge of a panic attack.

Anyway, crisis averted. Got the rental car and drove three hours from Phoenix to Lake Havasu. For all you UK-ers, fun fact about Havasu: the old London Bridge is now located there. I made it to Lake Havasu by noon and was able to spend the day with my uncle M, aunt M, and cousin B. Of course my cousin and I ran out and got some In and Out (and some Del Taco) because when you’re there, ya gotta have it. For the rest of the night, my cousin B and I met up with his brother R (my other cousin) and R’s girlfriend. We went out to where my aunt J (who also lives in Havasu) bartends. After a drink we went back to her and my uncle D’s house and ended up swimming in their pool until 2:30am. And yes, I had been up 26 hours at that time (factoring in the time change). I slept hard that night, and hung out with R and his girlfriend that morning. I made the rounds back to my aunt J and uncle D’s, and then back to uncle M’s house. For two hours before I had to leave for Vegas. It was bittersweet hugging him for likely the last time. The last thing I said to him was, “I fully expect you to haunt the shit out of me.” We both had a good laugh and that was that. It wasn’t until I started driving through the mountains on the way to Vegas that I started crying when “I Do Believe” by Patty Griffin shuffled on. It was a bittersweet cry. As the drive went on, I realized that I had cleared the mountains and was in the middle of the desert, with no one around me but the open road. So naturally, I decided to see how fast the rental car would take me.  120 MPH (193 km/h) later, it was fucking awesome.  I acted like a tourist for a hot minute, then slept on the floor at McCarren airport until my flight and then went straight to work.

I was fucking exhausted by the time I got to Pearl Jam on Monday night. When I got there, it was overcast but the weather was cool so it wasn’t bad. Then everyone had to take cover because of lightning and a horrendous storm that delayed the concert two hours. But like total badasses, Pearl Jam started at 9:30 and played well past curfew until midnight. I made a drunken friend as well and I’m surprised I didn’t come home with a hickey. From what I gathered he was a recent divorcee and the divorce was hard on him, so his friends took him out for a good time and got him plastered. He was such a sweetheart and you could tell he was devastated that his marriage hadn’t worked out. Well drunken divorcee found every excuse to touch me; high fives, put his arm around me, touching the small of my back, whatever. I decided a little harmless flirting never hurt anyone and will probably boost this dude’s ego (he really wasn’t a bad looking guy either), so I’ll play. The best part was every time he went to go say something in my ear, he would conveniently miss it and speak into my neck, pretty much making out with it every time. He was pretty adorable at trying to flirt and I really hope he find some lady that won’t break his heart someday (and when he’s sobered up from Pearl Jam shenanigans). I got home by 1:30 a.m. Let me tell you that was the best shower ever and the most comfortable my bed has ever been.

Now, I’m sitting here trying to sort out the thinking portion of my trip. It was a lot. I still have a ton floating around in my brain. I think that’s why I’ve had such a hard time writing this blog. I’m processing a lot of things from that trip; life, death, love, you know – existential crisis stuff. The norm.  So, I’ll do more sorting and hopefully write about it soon. In the meantime I’m going to go ice my jaw. It’s not as fun as you think. I was missing a molar (long story) and it really needed to be replaced before teeth started caving around it so I had the first part of the implant put in this morning. The left side of my face looks like a chipmunk and my head is throbbing, but at least I have an appointment for a sensory deprivation tank (the big tanks where you float in salt water), so that will help.

1 month ago. Tue 21 Aug 2018 09:57:05 AM IDT

In less than 72 hours (71 hours and 51 minutes precisely), I flew to Phoenix, lost my wallet, had a panic attack, was reminded that good people still exist, found my wallet, drove to Havasu, hung out with family, drove to Vegas and acted like a tourist for a hot minute (and may have also done 120mph in the desert), flew home, went straight to work from the airport despite Murphy’s law trying to do its thing, went straight to Chicago after work, sat in a torrential downpour thunderstorm, then made a new drunken bff, the rain cleared up enough for Pearl Jam to come out and rock the shit out of Wrigley Field until midnight, and then drove home took a shower and am now laying in my own bed. There will be a blog post with more detail, but first:

Yep. I’m really out of my damn mind. I’m also gonna sleep real good in about 3...2....1....