Nope, not talking about stones or wood. People.
I’ve been at this place of business now since January, almost a year. And, for those who don’t know (and maybe don’t care) i work in business that takes up 3 1/2 floors of a high-rise downtown, USA. It’s full of business people, ”suits” (men in 3-pieces) and lotsa fancy ladies.
Hence, my post.
I’m the type that sits back and observes people. Their mannerisms, their dress, whether they are LOUD or speak softly on the elevator, etc. Mostly i observe the “polished” ones. Those women who never NEVER have a hair out of place, their makeup is perfect, their perfume sometimes could choke a horse, they walk like they were born in stilettos and you simply can’t be better color-coordinated. I wonder how much time they spend in front of the mirror in the a.m. (or not).
So, as i’m riding up and down the elevators, and walking around the building day to day, i’m smiling on the inside because i am NOT like them. Now, mind you, i have some pretty dresses, some sexy shoes, i wear makeup, i fix my hair every morning (really!) and i have perfumes. But i’m different.
For example, on any given day (especially today) this is me at work (at home it would be a whole different post all together): I wear a lot of dark colors. Why? Because i like them. Blue, navy, black, tan, purple, red. Good solid colors. I only wear silver jewelry. Gold makes me cringe. I have very few “prints.” I just don’t like them on me, and, to me, the less clothing the better! My favorite work shoes are my black flats. My hair, which is now almost to my bra strap, is doing whatever my hair feels like doing from 8-5, which could be one or two of 1000 things. Usually, it’s in my eyes. I put my face on once a day at 6:15 a.m. If my lips are lucky, i will reapply some lipstick after lunch, but normally not. My perfume consists of the lotion in my bathroom…currently Aveeno Stress Relief Lotion which smells of lavender, chamomile and ylang-ylang oils. Yummy! (It got the seal of approval from Master last week!)
So, i guess my point is…i’m NOT polished. I’ve never been and i don’t plan on ever being. Why? It’s so much more fun! I can’t tell you how much fun it is for me to be on a crowded elevator,
half-heartedly (pretending to) listening to their small talk and office gossip smelling like fresh lavender,
my nails painted black,
clutching my hand-me-down purse against my vintage plaid coat,
feeling my hair climb the wall behind me from the static of the season (or is it the wool coat?),
secretly rubbing my thighs together cause i’m freshly shaved and wearing no panties, and thoughts of Master are running rampant in my head,
and the welts on my ass from Master’s recent loving are making my face flush just from the thought,
and i smile at all of them, because i’m not polished. I’m me.
As i step confidently off the elevator with my hair standing on end, i take a look back and yes, they are looking. Must be lavender. Right?
Now, don’t be thinking i can’t be polished. Cause i can. I just save all that for Master, cause being polished for Master will always end up getting in the rough. Yep! Yep!
Me!
