WARNINGS: This story includes explicit descriptions of sexual acts. If reading this might involve you or another person in an illegal act, or you are offended by the exploration of adult themes in literature or on the Internet, do not read further.
Copyright 1999 by Jane Urquhart. The author is a member of the Net Authors and Creators Union (NACU), which defends the rights of Internet authors and creators. NACU intends to bring suit against any person or corporation infringing copyright.
Specific permission is granted for publication in the news groups Alt.Sex.Stories and Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated and for archiving by the Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated archive, Deja.com and RemarQ.com. All other rights are reserved. Do not repost or distribute by any other means without express permission from the author.
OK, it's only 10 o'clock. Bob gave me a couple of very clear signals earlier this evening so I figure I know what he's got on his mind, but it sure isn't on mine and I have this horrendous day coming up and I want to go to sleep but I'm wide awake anyhow, practically so rigid I can't even feel the bed, thinking about the stuff I have to do tomorrow.
I absolutely have to go to the grocery store or we starve. I've got to pick up Alan at school at 2:30 and take him to the mall and force him at gunpoint to buy some shirts and pants or he won't have anything at all to wear to school except a raincoat and that's out of style right now and besides, when I was in school any kid that wore a raincoat was probably a flasher, not a shooter. I probably shouldn't even think jokes like that, people would think I'm callous or something, but what the hell can I do about this stuff and I'm sure not going all pious like the politicians and the TV people.
Oh, well. I can't blame him for not wanting to go clothes shopping, I don't like it much myself, but you have to have something to wear so it's just one of those damn things and he'd better learn there are plenty of them around. At least I can tell from the sizes they put on kiddie clothes how big they're likely to be. He'd really hate it a lot more if he were like me and had to find a size 16 or 18 or 20 that didn't look like something made for a fat old lady and probably doesn't fit anyhow because they don't even mark the sizes right. I wonder what Germaine Greer has to say about that? I've got to read her new book and find out what she thinks now about clothes because I know I've seen a picture of her in a dress and I think she's pretty tall. But skinny. Anyhow.
Take the car to work. Then I can go to Bread & Circus and I do love to look at that pile of carrots they have. Somebody has to work really hard to get them balanced just right, all in a cylinder with the big ends outside. If I'm careful I can pull out the really big ones deep down in the pile without dumping millions of carrots on the floor, and I think the big ones taste better so it's worth taking the chance. But I can't go to the grocery store until I get something to eat, because I have a full schedule of clients tomorrow and I know them all and every one of them will show up, worse luck. I won't get out of there until 12:30. One thing I know for sure--Janey eats. That's the important thing in life. Unless Janey eats, the whole thing comes down with a crash. So I guess I'll take a boring old tuna sandwich in a brown bag and it'll taste better than what they serve in the lousy college cafeteria where the floor sticks to your feet.
How can they allow that? I'd have somebody out there washing the place down 24 hours a day rather than have people's shoes stick to the floor. Oh, well, of course the world's going to hell in a handbasket but I can't worry about that now because I simply have to concentrate on figuring how to get all that stuff done tomorrow.
So all right. I take the car. Eat brown bag after the clients are gone. Then go to Bread & Circus. Thank God Judy has her Japanese anime club after school--she can walk home and stay by herself for an hour, that's OK. The kid is obsessed, but I guess it keeps her out of trouble, and maybe she'll learn Japanese and become an ambassador or something.
And then I got that letter from Mat today and he asks me, "Can you write while fucking?" Well, hell, the man is out of his mind. Father O'Brien told me a parishioner had asked him if it was all right to smoke while praying. "No," he said, "but it's OK to pray while smoking." Which isn't much to the point but it's funny. So I can't fuck while writing but maybe I can write while fucking except the fountain pen would probably leak and there's no way to get a keyboard in bed. Unless I got one of those wireless ones. Which reminds me I've got to buy a whole new set of linens because everything is wearing out, and there's no time to do that either because--
Oh, Bob's coming up and am I glad, because if I go to sleep before he comes up he'll wake me and no telling how long it'll take to get back to sleep and I really do have to sleep to be fit to get all that stuff done tomorrow.
It'll be Thursday so maybe the Turnpike traffic won't be too bad and I can take my time shopping. Damn! I need a new mouse pad because for some reason the one I've been using for years has taken to making the mouse behave irrationally and I know it's not the mouse because I switched the one I have for my laptop to the desktop and it does the same thing. But Bread & Circus doesn't carry mouse pads, I'm pretty sure, and the computer store at the mall is so crappy it won't have any that don't have Star Wars pictures on them. You have to go to Cambridge these days to get a plain old gray mouse pad without any stupid cartoons on it. And anyhow, I still don't know what I'm going to buy at the grocery store.
He's in the bathroom--good thing. But my God! He's taking a shower! It'll take hours and I'll never get to sleep...
OK. Carrots. Salad stuff. Cauliflower. Broccoli. No problem--vegetables are easy. Do I need to buy cheese? Not there, I don't care whether the cheese is organic or not and it costs half the price at the regular store if I can get there. Maybe after Alan gets his clothes. It looks like we'll be eating frozen tomorrow night. Wonder what's in the freezer? I got enough cereal at BJ's last time to last for months. I have to find some other places to store stuff. The kids keep getting bigger and eating more and it's a whole lot cheaper to buy in bulk but where the hell do I put it all? And meat. I love the meat at Bread & Circus, and they swear it's not full of hormones that'll turn poor Alan into a soprano and it actually tastes better than what's at the regular store.
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