Diluted

 

A still October evening. It remains warm down south but comfortable enough out here on the porch. I drink cold beer. The sun slowly falls from the sky. Monday looms and my stomach pains with the anxiety of pressure deadlines, phone calls to make, orders to write, keep customers happy, keep corporate happy. At the monthy meeting we were told of our branch moving toward the beach. A smaller location. "right-sizing", half the drivers and warehouse staff are being let go. Im inside. I sell all day long to standing accounts. How did it come to this. Being driven again by the reward of money and commision bonuses. Im not even there a year and ive sold close to one million dollars of electrical products. The bosses say its not enough. We are down from last week , last month, last year. And there is no winning for them. How do i always end up in the same place. Striving for an imaginary goal. With tooth pain and stomach ache. Candy. Blood.

The fear of not having a pay check has made me a slave. I crave to many things, to many girls, to many drinks. Objects, needless things. The devil is somehow behind this. Like pop culture and hipsters and Sasha Grey. It sounds like im complaing but im not. The blood-mobile came to our warehouse and they begged for my type A -. I felt special.

It seems silly i have a deviant side for spanking girls bottoms. and since the rise of the fifty shades book. Ive gotten more and more takers. Ive been on various sites since im 27, and now being many years older. It is almost art form. " the husband/boyfriend isnt into it" is what ive heard most. And i cant for the life of me understand why. Shes bad. A bad bad girl. Cant you see she deserves it?

One week and im on vacation. A cabin up in the mountains. Burning wood. Reading books. Away from the computer screens and flourescent lights. Nothing to win. Blood to spill. But enough about me. Tell me, have you been bad?

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