I cycle a lot. (Not a surprise, really, for many reasons, but moving on….) Sometimes I’m all submissive and hurt-me-use-me and sometimes I’m not.

I haven’t felt very submissive lately. Not “not submissive” in the sense that now I’m a top or a dominant, not like “oh, see, you’re a guy so you’re not really submissive anyway.” I fucking hate that crap, which is the same thing as “you’re a woman so you’re really a submissive, at least a little bit.”

I feel like anyone, anyone who’s expecting me to get down on my knees for them is going to get smacked upside the head. Get me on my knees? Hah. Laughable. Because secretly, you see, I am actually the incredible hulk and when I am irritable or angry—or not feeling submissive—I become the emotional equivalent of a raging juggernaught. Only way you’ll see me on my knees is in seven-inch thick steel, because I could break anything thinner and I would actually take a bullet before I voluntarily unlock my knee.

I don’t like that I don’t really understand why or where this comes from. I probably would enjoy the seven-inch thick steel, but I’m probably too ornery to actually make it a good scene.

Maybe it’s been all the tech geekery that’s turned me off from the submission for now (temporarily, I assure you; this has happened before). I spend all my time “being productive” and then when I’m feeling this way playing just feels like a waste of time. Like I could be doing something better with my time, as stupid as that sounds.

I am very picky about who and what gets access to my time. My time is very valuable to me. I only have so much of it. I’ve already used up 23 years of it. I loathe the idea of wasting anything.

I typically don’t spend time thinking about things I don’t care about. I get angry at people who I need to interact with when they are slow, physically or mentally. Of course, sexual playtime is hardly what most would call a waste of time, but I digress.

Naturally, this is sometimes problematic relationship-wise. Eileen calls it “not being in sync” (or something like that?) which sounds an awful lot like biorhythms, something I’m skeptical about at best. Still, there’s no denying the cyclic nature of everything about me, which itself would be a complete summation if I were willing to accept it as such. (I’m not, of course.)

When “not in sync,” however, what happens? One of us gets frustrated, in the bad way, about not getting to do what we want. “It’s been a long time since you’ve wanted to get hurt,” Eileen tells me a lot. “You used to get all moany when I pulled your hair, now you just say ‘ow.'” I had to remind her: “I was all moany at the fact that there was a beautiful and sexy dominant woman paying attention to me. The hair pulling always made me go ow.” (Yes, Eileen’s attentions were my first that count. Being pissy about that is another rant entirely.)

Relationships cycle just like I do. Or maybe my relationships cycle because I do. Whatever it is, it’s pissing me off. But don’t try to put me on my knees because I will hurt you.