Happiness is Important Here

Well. Here I am. I was so busy last week with this new job--which I love, have I mentioned that?--that I ran out of time and energy to post. I ran out of time and energy for most activities; lucky for me Housemate #1 continued to put in the bulk of effort in our fucking, or it wouldn't have happened. I'm not sure what it was, but we went into overdrive last week it seemed. I was gone all day with work, as was he, and we were both exhausted in the evening. But somehow we'd manage to find eachother upstairs, and he'd press against me in the most delightful way that men weak with hunger are prone too. Somehow we each found the time, although I won't admit that I found the energy. It found me. Without that sudden urge to sexually devour his body, my mind was numb and I'd just sit there staring ahead. Fucking and zoning out is how I spent my free time last week.

The temporary computer was being brought in by it's kind lender yesterday, and the shop owner wanted me to come in today to set that up and set up the cash register, dsl, and fax/scanner/printer/copier as well. I told her that I'd make it in if I could, but I had my own business clients to work with and errands to run. Last week I worked about 50 hours, but only accounted for 40 on my timecard due to her being unprepared to pay overtime. I'll admit, I am entitled to that money. But opening a retail store is hard work and I really want to see this succeed. I can stand to volunteer time before routine is established.

So yes, full-time work. More to the point, legitimate work. Not that I don't love camwhoring (how can a girl like me not enjoy having men compliment her constantly, send her gifts, and pay to see her naked and in doing so give her time to masturbate?). But. It is not what I want to do for the rest of my life. Somehow a semblance of what I do want managed to fall into my lap during the holidays, and now I go there almost every day. Given that, I'm sure you have an idea of what I am about to say.

I have officially discontinued my camwhoring.

Now, just because I no longer camwhore or wish to do so, does not mean you will never see Merrick nekkid again. Heavens no! Would I do that to you? 'Course not. I am in the process of joining up to be a Suicide Girls model. A close friend and I are in the planning and development stages for a personal amateur site. And who knows, I could always start posting occasional pics here... *wink* We'll just have to wait and see what life holds in store for me these coming months. Yaknow, other than being busy.

My mind is so not invested in thinking right now though. I keep catching myself sitting and doing nothing, running random thoughts through my head and trying to find an ending point for them. No action without consequence, reaction. It never ends. My fingernails are looking hellish; I kept them so well manicured for so long, but I apparently hit a wall at some point and just can't keep them maintained. I definitely feel better when my nails look nice; I need to keep track of this.

*sigh* I love my job. I love my friends. To a degree, I love myself. Being upbeat all day is so hard though when there is so much going on behind the scenes. I mistakenly received the Feb. 15th issue of Family Circle magazine, but flipped through its pages to look for any interesting articles or whatever. That magazine is so happy, and it really stressed that you should be happy too (!!). From an article entitled "Hair that makes you Happy" to a little blurb on "happy hour" with some new cocktail mix (the irony of housewives reading this magazine tickles me to no end). But then there's the articles about teenage girls getting plastic surgery to prolong their modeling careers or fix their flat chests and an article on how to up your attractiveness to others with opening paragraphs sounding more like lesbian 'net smut than a friendly encounter. The magazine seems to tell people (women) they should be happy, but gives them a variety of reasons to not be, all the while continuing to show happy pictures of happy people. How horrible. But I really wanted to read some of those articles...