Weekend

It's the weekend, and I'm at work. This is rubbish for a number of reasons.
Firstly, I don't usually work them, in this business pretty much everyone higher up than me and anyone in support is off on weekends, so operational matters pause until Monday. This makes them the best days for me to take off.
Second, Sir is off on weekends and it's rubbish that I can't spend the day with him and that when I get home I just want to curl up and sleep as I've already been up since before 3am. If I don't sleep I'm invariably ratty and just end up bringing Master's mood down, which is never good.
Thirdly, weekends DRAG. The mornings are often painfully slow, it's 7am now and it feels like it should be noon. By noon it'll feel like tomorrow and by tomorrow I'll be back here again. In spirit, this job I never leave.

Was allowed to sleep in bed last night with Sir, which I'm glad of, he could tell I'm still feeling fragile and full of crappy feelings over how much I hate my job, and still upset over not seeing my lovely slavebro on Wednesday at a time when he needed me most. So glad to see that his exams went well though, would have upset me even more if I'd known that my bugger up Wednesday had affected his scores. Congrats bro, you're free! And hungover by the sounds of it.

I'm fully accustomed to my cage being my room now, rather than going splat on the bed and reading a book I am now happily crawling through the cage doors and curling up there instead.
The enclosure reminds me of the cosiness of when we used to caravan holiday and I had the bottom bunk, sitting up in the corner reading a book. Just the same comfortable homeliness can be found behind bars, but with that extra sense of belonging.
And no chemical toilet four feet away, thankfully.

Seven hours to go and I can leave for another day. For now I'll just type this and get annoyed with my iPhone for capitalising Reading. I don't want Reading, I want reading. Grargh.

Boy x