I had a productive Saturday, if not a very exciting one, but that’s not always bad. I had no pressing need to leave the house, and other than going to the mailbox, I didn’t.
I did a lot of calendar-related things today.
I put up the subjects for the Special Interest Groups for the upcoming year. I’d created the events, but hadn’t added the topics and the questions, which I like to have done before January.
I scheduled Titleholder Preparations, where we will invite people who are running or thinking about running for a leather title to attend and be asked questions, have an opportunity to practice speeches and/or presentations with feedback and support.
I’ve worked on scheduling classes that I’ll offer this year, my expanded BDSM 101 classes. I wanted to look at them from the ground up again, and I’m close, I still have to decide what three of the nine classes will actually be, and I need to find the location, but I’m not overly worried about it.
I meant to do more email work, but what I did do that I’m pleased about was updating my presentation binder.
I have one binder that I try and keep a copy of all my current presentation notes in, so when I go to an event, I can just grab that and know everything I need is in it.
It also means that the occasional time when I am expected to present a class I didn’t remember I was presenting, which has happened, I have the notes for it, too.
I printed out copies of the notes that I hadn’t added, and put them in the page protectors I use, and put labels on the dividers so I can find the notes I need when I need them.
I also updated my kinky biography and 2013 list of classes. I have a couple of classes that are on my list that I need to write when and if someone picks them.
I’ve always done that, I”ll write the description for the class I want to offer, and send it out when I’m asked for my class list. Then, when someone requests it, I’m forced to write it.
I have to write a class on Transparency in M/s Relationships, because I’m scheduled to do that one in Dallas in March, at South Plains Leatherfest.
I have two more, one on being a female master in a gay male world, and one on loving the unlovable, accepting the things within ourselves and others that we see as essentially unlovable.
I need to move things to my online calendar now, but I’m really pleased to get so much done. I did answer one email I needed to respond to as well, and I still have a bit of time.
Tomorrow I’ll go to a party and see a lot of my friends. It will be fun,, then slave drew will be back at home on Christmas Eve.
And then, at the end of the day, someone made me cry.
I don’t cry easily or often. I had done a lot of shopping for someone who couldn’t do the actual errands, including buying for a grandchild.
I didn’t get the list until about three hours before they needed to be delivered, and I had a short window of time to put it together.
You might realize that it was probably known that gifts would be needed before then, and it might have been possible to get me a list before the last possible moment. I realize that as well.
On the list were video games in a format that I couldn’t find in three stops, so I was left with the clothes I’d been asked to find, some toys I picked out myself for him, and a soccer ball, which apparently the ditsy and incompetent clerk never gave me.
I was in a hurry, trying not to be late in another pickup, and I just didn’t notice that the soccer ball never got in the cart. It was the Friday before Christmas at Target. It was a lot busy and a lot stressful.
I’d already done grocery shopping, too, and felt badly I couldn’t find the games.
The grandfather thanked me for doing it, nicely, thanked me specifically for the clothes, and told me the grandchild “loved” them, which I was happy about because the selection had been limited, even more than my time.
I responded that I was glad that the boy had liked the clothes, going on to say that they had been the only things in the store that fit the list – the one that I got at noon on Friday before Christmas.
I’d genuinely picked out things I thought the child would like, a t-shirt with a robot image, a pair of camo cargo pants, a pair of pajamas with dinosaurs.
After I responded that I was really glad the child had liked the pants, the grandfather apparently felt compelled to tell me it was a sarcastic comment on his part, that the child hadn’t liked them because they weren’t toys.
And now I’ve sat for 15 minutes crying over it.
The child probably got more gifts at this holiday celebration than I got the first dozen years of my life, at least. He still has another set of grandparents and his own parents, too, from whom he will also get presents.
I did my best, and now I feel really miserable.
I’m not at all sure why he felt compelled to point out it had been a sarcastic remark on his part, why he couldn’t have just let me think it was sincere, or why he even felt that making the comment was the thing to do.
He’s called to try and apologize, I’m sure, and there are at least one or two texts from him, but I’ve not looked at any of them.
It was unintentional on his part, I know, but it still hurt my feelings, and that’s not really that easy to do.
It took me by surprise, and I am still surprised at myself.
It’s pretty easy to piss me off or annoy me, but I keep my feelings under wraps most of the time, to avoid bruising.
I should have wrapped them better, clearly.