alvynaumagumma

So yeah, I haven't been horny in so long, so of course the cravings kicked in while my husband is recovering from his vasectomy!
While unpacking boxes I came across my motorized back massager (which I've rarely ever used for its intended purpose), and come bedtime, I started feeling a tad frisky. So I pulled it out and the next forty-five minutes were pretty stellar! I even thought of someone the whole time (a very lovely lady I'll never have, but I can fantasize ) which is totally unusual for me because I usually just think of cumming. But this time was different. I pictured her eyes, her curves, and I mimed caressing her. Fuck it was great! Best orgasm I've had in ages!

I've always lived in central Ottawa, and I've never cared for the suburbs - too manufactured, too proper - and ever since I moved out from with my parents, I've lived downtown. I like it; you're near everyone and everything and people are more "free to be", so to speak. So when I had to pack everything I owned into boxes and move into my in-laws' home in the heart of the 'burbs, to say I wasn't happy is an understatement. Ever notice how the 'burbs are like a maze? Well I have no idea where I am or how to get out. I don't have my friends' phone numbers (damned speed dial, outdating memorization!), and I have no bus fare if I could figure out where I'm going.
Sunday was my last night in my apartment and my folks took the cats so they would be out of the way for the big move. All Monday was insane packing, and we had lots of help which is great, but with so many hands came much confusion.
To see my home empty was heartbreaking. To know that for the next twelve hours I was homeless had a very strange effect of me (we needed to be out by midnight and couldn't move in until 4 pm), and I lay awake in my in-laws' hotel room on the pullout couch feeling very alone.
When we got the keys to the new place, I was overwhelmed, plus I had Oz to care for, so I was largely useless. I kept hearing things like, "blank better not happen in my home", and I felt like I was teen again (not in a good way). I know what they're doing for us, and I appreciate it, and they're really sweet people; but it's really difficult and weird.
Thursday Tom got his vasectomy, and was from then-on unable to do any more unpacking (which his father, who had to go away on business, told us to finish before he got back) and was also unable to watch Oz who's been increasingly mobile, mischievous, and cranky since we moved. I've been cat deprived (they're here now, but I wasn't allowed to be reunited with them until the weekend). Put simply, I've been overworked, overstressed, and sleep deprived, not to mention I've had no time to browse SG!
There were a few boxes in the garage that the big burly men claimed were too heavy to lug up the stairs. I realized they were my books (all my books - somehow, my husband's hardcover gaming books were light as a feather, I guess) and that the garage was partially flooded!! What the fuck?? But if the brutes moving us couldn't lift the boxes, I hadn't a hope! So today, I was putting some recycling out when I noticed my books and I decided to try to bring in one of the smaller boxes. Long story short, in less than a half hour, I'd got all my books inside and only two of the boxes were too heavy for me to carry upstairs to my room. The books are all damp, which wouldn't be the end of the world except that the majority of them were my Playboys. My fucking collection is worth thousands of dollars easy, dating all the way back to 1958, and now they're ruined. Ok, so they're not totally ruined, but do you think anyone will pay top dollar for a porn mag that's warping and curling from moisture?? I'm so fucking pissed off at the laziness!!
I hate the fucking suburbs!