On Refining Protocols

Our contract is almost due to be revisited, and I have a long list of notes on all the little things that have been changed verbally since the last revisit to edit in.  (The contract is meant to be a current understanding and communication tool upon revisits, not something unchangeable when Mistress wishes it.  Most of the benefit of the contract is I think honestly in the talking and drafting of those revisits; it’s not directly referenced often, action items incorporated into other systems.)  I noted how many of my notes weren’t new concepts entirely so much as refining of pre-existing ones.

For example, the set response protocol to permission grants and denials.  (Good in its simplicity for so many examples of protocol concepts—and yet, how much refining it needs…)  Thank you, Mistress.  Fine and good.  We’d already had a note in the contract about it not being necessary if the time needed to complete the action I’d asked permission for would be less than the time needed to say the phrase, smoothing out a potential longer interruption to conversation for a quick action (say, stretching my legs from my kneeling position while we’re chatting).  So not required, but allowed if it wouldn’t be disruptive.  Another note said to respond based on intention, not phrasing.  Mistress starts a decent number of orders every day with the phrase you may.  She’s not informing me I have permission to do the thing, she’s telling me to do it.  So I would use the set response to orders, not permissions.  Yes, Mistress.

We ran into two more mild conundrums around the same basic protocol.  

One: favors.  Something in asking a question along the lines of would you help me with this, please or may I borrow this, please invoked the same response to at least an affirmative answer, and sometimes a negative one.  It wasn’t really a permission.  Perhaps a privilege.  But intrinsically I felt like it fell under that protocol.  Nothing wrong with giving that answer even if it wasn’t, but knowing if it was required seemed like an important clarification, so I didn’t get lax on it as a nicety rather than a protocol.  

Two: restating permissions.  The general idea of: do I respond with this protocol to only the first permission grant, or every time it’s reiterated?  If it was a reminder of a standing permission or restricting rule, a confirmation one way or the other of a mildly questionable permission, a summary of multiple permissions recently given, does it count?  If it wasn’t news, was it truly a grant/denial, or was it a statement?  Again it intrinsically felt like it fell under this protocol, and again there was nothing wrong with answering it as such, but an important clarification on the requirement versus nicety issue.

So it was interesting to see how much more thought out each protocol becomes with time, even ones that sound so simple at their core.  I wrote a post on protocol once that I titled “The More Natural-Seeming the Dance, the More Thought-Out the Choreography”.  And I stand by that metaphor.  Strangely, the more elaborate our protocol is to explain, the smoother it looks (and feels to integrate) in practice.

“It’s interesting,” said a friend one afternoon, sitting in our living room at the time.  What we used as a living room then was an extension on the original house, and the kitchen had a wide doorway and an open window into the living room that used to be an actual window and exterior sliding door, leading to the rooms being highly connected.  Mistress was doing something in the kitchen.  I’d been in there with her and asked permission to go into the living room to sit down on the couch, which she’d granted, and I did.  Speaking from somewhat different rooms now, she said something poetic about me being free to wander around, at which point I said that I couldn’t really go that far, not beyond the living room or the kitchen.  

“Well, I guess not,” she agreed.  The explanation being that because after I’d asked permission to leave her presence in the kitchen, she’d engaged with me while I was in the living room, tying me back to being in her presence and therefore having the need for permission to leave, but now including the living room in that.  If she had been absorbed in what she was doing in the kitchen, not talking to me, the rooms would’ve been separate enough I would’ve been able to wander the house and sit on the furniture in the living room without permission.  But as she was engaged with me again, I would need permission to leave even if this was where I had initially asked permission to leave to.  Additionally, if I stood up, I’d need permission to sit back down again, unless she left farther than the kitchen, or had been unengaged for some time.

“It’s interesting.” 

As a writer, I know that frequently (but not always) it is the more carefully planned scenes of interaction that have the best flow (or the type of flow you want at least, for a conversation between purposefully awkward characters), and that my impulsive 2 AM scribbles rarely progress as smoothly (or intended) as they did in my head, daydream montages skipping crucial transitions. Yes, there’s such a thing as over-planning, but I tend to think the author overexposed to their own work has a lower threshold for that than the actual reader.

In protocol, it might mean that writing out a protocol and the conditions and alternatives and whatnot might make it look like overkill even to me, but it feels natural and right in the moment, and writing it all out doesn’t leave me torn between a reasonable instinct and what’s in the contract. It is being the writer and the reader both, to be a part of clarifying conversations—if I don’t have the final say—and to live the results. It adds a deliberateness to the way we live our lives.

And in the end, I think carefully refining even a simple-sounding protocol is worthwhile. Rather than making it more complicated and mind-consuming in practice, it actually means you have to dedicate less thought to everyday protocols that are meant to be an augmentation of a dynamic, not a distraction from the moment. Rather than ponder if you’re making the right choice on something with it right then, you can rest assured that the decision was made in advance, and direct your attention to the human in front of you instead of semantics.

A lot of the refining happens when I run into such a question to ponder, and in the moment I err safely towards the letter of the contract (unless I feel like the spirit of it would really override it for Mistress in that situation). Frequently it passes without notice. Later, though, I usually find a time to ask about it and we clarify those conditions or conundrums. The first time I heard the phrase predicament protocol, at a class, I knew immediately what was meant. Sometimes when I do err towards the letter of the contract, Mistress notes it as odd, then notes it as a rule she technically set, and that’s how the conversation on conditions happens to make it smoother next time.

Our protocols are a corrigible list really, and the fulfillment of living those protocols gets to also include the fascination with making them as close to just right as we can.

On Finding Time for Yourself as a Slave

Firstly, the perhaps obvious: what finding time for yourself looks like (including the need to do it yourself) does depend on the people, the dynamic, if you got to negotiate, etc.

Some issues you might run into include a) just having the time at all for your own things, b) managing that time (and the temptation to rest and relax when you catch a break, not engage in a high-energy hobby of your own), c) finding unbroken chunks of time where you’re not passing by a reminder of something you should do and doing it, or having a timer go off for the laundry or starting dinner, or having, “Slave!” yelled across the house or whatnot.  (There’s a reason I’m required to notify her on the usually rare occasions when I take/make vanilla calls.)

There’s also, generally, that your time isn’t yours.  If your M-type wants to make you late somewhere, or wants to make you wait in position to be unleashed from the bed for half an hour (or forgets you’re there)—that’s their choice, and you (probably) don’t get to complain about it much.  You learn to work with it.

I maintain pretty much one good friend I see independently of Mistress, and there are plenty of times I have to see them in person at our house, so I can keep an eye on a slow-simmer dinner or talk while I do chores, and I might get called away to go do something like fetch coffee.  And one household of vanilla family.  You might find a lack of time for huge circles of independent friends, but many people are happy without that in general.  

When I had a family emergency last year, I was officially put on (and later taken off) “light slave duty” to allow time to see to that.  That might be a possibility in emergencies for many others.

Honestly, it’s mostly the routine service stuff that adds up more than projects.  My morning routine (which I’d need permission to really modify) can take up to two hours, including exercise, throwing on my uniform, making the bed, little stuff like that.  Not to mention evening routine.  Dinner usually takes my attention for about an hour and fifteen minutes for cooking (either fairly active or at least having to keep an eye on it), half hour for eating at the time it’s required to be on the table, more assorted time for cleanup after.  I’d count on the fact that if all a day entails is your daily list, it doesn’t mean it’s a super light work day.

And of course, that gets easily thrown off by getting sick or needing some extra sleep.  Even if you get/have permission to not do them that day, it still means (likely) that they’re not getting done, and then it becomes a problem for Tomorrow You.  This will end up on your mind when it’s at all questionable if you should ask for the rest, and you’ll have to know your own needs there.

I often say, “It comes out to very easily about/more than a full time job, and the fact you’re permanently on call, and no weekends/holidays/etc.”  That is, of course, for me and the way my dynamic works, with the note that it would look very different for, say, someone who’s working/pursuing education/etc.

In the end, you’ll learn to prioritize what’s important to you in the free time you have, and how to work that in, whether it’s friends who come to you, or giving up some more mindless R&R time activities to make sure you get in real hobby time.

Service Skill: Setting the Table

Who knew, really, how much can go into setting a table?  A little scatterbrained from handling other preparations for company, like the cooking and ensuring the right drinks were chilling in the fridge and right quantity of glasses were chilling in the freezer, I couldn’t seem to print the first few names right-side-up on both sides of their place-cards on the first go—though I got there eventually.  I ended up scrutinizing the table to make sure I hadn’t spaced anything—napkins well-laundered and white, knife blades facing plates, Mistress’ place set to her preference with the right and left sides switched, my grandma’s place set to her preference with a salad fork instead of a dinner fork.  Then I got reminded one guest was left-handed, and as the only leftie and with such a place available, I reassigned his place to where there was no one to his left.  Made sure I noted that for next time.

Proper table setting has caught my interest, mostly in the little details I never really noticed before, the differences between styles, the “whys” of some of it.  I have yet to find a good opportunity for a real formal dinner, but, as above, I try to work what I can into more casual events.  The place cards were more than usual, though the rest is everyday.

So I’m certainly not an expert, but here are some quick overarching table-setting tips and guidelines I’ve run across.

  1. Space things evenly and line them up (bottoms of the vertical flatware all along the same line, for instance).
  2. All knife blades face towards the plate.
  3. Be consistent in your style.  There are different types of settings (like North American versus European); stick to one.
  4. Use as few disposables as possible to increase class.  Cloth napkins, real dishes.  Have them match (in general; there might be times other options are appropriate), and make sure they’re spotless.
  5. Big centerpieces might look pretty in isolation; on the table, they mean you can’t see the person across from you.  Think smaller, or get creative on placement.
  6. Certain types of plates, bowls, and glassware can be chilled for serving things cold or heated for serving things warm.  Adds a touch of luxury.
  7. Check what’s in your butler’s book for any special considerations for those who will be dining.

There are many good visual references for place setting online.

Day in the Slave Life #4

Note: What it says on the tin—fourth in a series, a non-fiction piece about one day in my M/s dynamic, hoping to answer some questions I frequently see about the day-to-day life of a slave.

… 

I wake a few minutes before my alarm, shut it before it goes off and message Mistress for permission to get up, sleepily find my way into my unleashing position.  She comes in and lets me up.

I dress in my uniform, wash up, prepare the coffee machine to make another pot for Mistress when this one is empty, nudge a disgruntled cat off the bed so I can make it.  Mistress comes in and makes conversation with me around the time I’m tucking the folded-over edge of the flat sheet under the folded-over edge of the comforter.  Both cats appear the moment the bed looks made enough for me to let them lie on it in peace.

My walk is shifted today to be practical transportation as per my new idea for this day of the week, but I go through my other light morning exercises; they seem to wake me up enough to shake the soreness I woke with.  The jumping rope on the front porch reveals a nice day for walking later.  I make our smoothies, stick a tri tip in the sous vide for later, and sit with Mistress while we drink the smoothies since I’ve moved fast enough to have extra minutes to just sit like that.

I pack up my bag.  Sometimes I bring snacks for the other volunteers at the library, or bookmarks I crocheted to leave out for people to take.  Sometimes I bring paper towels, since handling older books can get dusty enough to turn your hands black, and the only hand-drying option in the bathroom is one of those awful air-blowing machines that makes your ears ring for ten minutes.  Today I travel light.

Mistress sees me out the door.  I walk the mile I would’ve gone on my walk, but up a different street to the bus stop.  Don’t wait long for the bus, and it’s just the one I need to get to the library, just a few minutes early for my volunteer shift.

We don’t have many customers in the used bookstore today, or a flood of donations coming in, but there are plenty of donations left in the back to scan and sort and shelve.  As I put books out, books also find their way into a pile for me to buy when I leave.  They’re mostly not for me—though there’s two I can’t resist—they’re for a teacher family member’s classroom library.  And a book for her by one of her favorite authors, which she’s read but might not own, and if she does, she’s told me to grab this author’s works anyway because she’ll gift them.  And an issue of a magazine her mom likes.

It’s fun work.  Even just being around all the books is nice.  And when we get a chance, I like talking with the other volunteers.  I’m the youngest one by literally fifty years.  They have great and quirky stories.

At the end of my shift, I buy the books and head out to the bus stop, not far away.  Take the same route but backwards back—the one bus, the mile walk.  I may have overdone it on the books; the reusable grocery bag they’re stored in has a strap break while I’m crossing the street, and I scramble to grab everything and get out of the road, regroup and make it the rest of the way home without further incident.

Mistress has been moving things around in the house, sorting through things in her current office and old office.  The old one is in unrecognizably better shape, if there are still some things to be moved to make the hallway easy to navigate.

I settle in, do a few small things, and then start making dinner for it to be ready at the usual time of six, finishing the tri tip, making a side of corn, setting the table.  We eat, talk.  I refill her drinks.  After, I clean up—take out the trash, do the dishes, whatnot. 

I run through my other evening rituals, like prepping another pot of coffee, this one for the morning.  I get leashed to the bed and write my slave journal entry, tired, but it was a good day.

Service Skill: Digital Productivity

This post is a conglomeration of productivity systems, tricks, and tools I use in my slavery, focusing on the digital side.

Part One: Using Technology to Be More Productive, Not Less

Let’s face it: for a lot of people, their devices are simply time sinks, or for leisure.  Their phones are for Candy Crush and Instagram; tablets are for Netflix and cat videos; so on, so on.  For a lot of people, too, their devices are crucial productivity tools—full of important resources, communications, planning—but definitely still able to become a time sink with the right Wikipedia rabbit hole.  For this, technology can get a bad rap.  So Part One is how to make your tech focused around being more productive, not less.

Eliminate those time sinks.

If possible, it can be best to eliminate them altogether.  Delete social media accounts, games, whatnot.  On the other hand, those are perfectly fine things to engage in during leisure time, so in that case it becomes limiting their use to those times.  I very rarely use my phone except for a quick check on a ride or jotting down an idea while out and about, but I make sure there are no games on there or certain time-sink apps (Pinterest, anyone?).  No games period, actually.  Very little social media.  FetLife… Pinterest.  I used to have a Facebook, but deleted it because of the time sink factor.

If you can’t delete them, app and website blockers with timers can be your friend.  I have those distractions like FetLife and Pinterest basically blocked during most of my usual waking hours by a simple Chrome extension called StayFocusd.  There are many apps and extensions like it.  If you’re exclusively a Chrome user like me, an extension just for that may work—if you’re more of a general phone user, or use multiple browsers, etc., you may want something more robust to keep you on track during your key service hours.

Eliminate friction points in your tech use.

Have you ever meant to quickly check an email, and ended up looking at two other emails in your inbox, or running to find a charger for your dying device so you can finish reading that email, or getting linked to a site you forgot your password for, leaving you to get in via a reset email, or having to install an update before your device cooperates?

These are friction points.  

I recommend eliminating those issues—and a few more—in these ways.

One, properly set up and use a password manager to save your passwords, so you don’t play the, “Forgot your password?  Enter your username!  Forgot your username?  Enter your email!” game.  I use LastPass in the form of another Chrome extension.  Some of these even come with a strong password generator, and it makes it easier to not dangerously repeat passwords.  This is another one that heavier phone or app users may need something else for.

Two, charge your electronics every night.  The devices you use basically every day—plug them in before you go to bed.  It’s simple, takes just a second, but it makes a huge difference.  Take it from someone whose phone and smart watch went from “always dead” to “always charged”.  Also, make sure you carry chargers for whatever devices you’re carrying, and consider a charged power bank and appropriate cords for that.  The backpack I carry even has USB charging via power bank abilities built in (so you can plug in the power bank on the inside of the bag, and the phone to a port on the outside).

Three, unless you have reason not to (waiting for bugs to be worked out, new pricing, etc.): install updates promptly for your apps and devices.  It’ll save you the headache of functionality issues ensuing.

Four, backup, backup, backup.  Don’t lose your important files to dragging the wrong thing to the trash or a water glass dropped on a device.  Set reminders—mine are weekly—to backup your files, preferably in more than one form—for example, I have things in EverNote and OmniFocus, which have cloud syncing, and I also export both to iCloud weekly for more cloud backup, and save that same weekly export to a flash drive for a version I can touch.

If you do these, you’ll never get ordered to do a quick task on one of your devices and have to go, “Er… one more minute!”

Part Two: Organizing Your Devices and Related Routine

If your digital files are a mess to sort through, or you’re always forgetting something you’re supposed to do on your devices, you’re not going to feel—or be—any more productive.  Here are some organization pointers.

A Table of Contents is your friend.

Wherever it can be, something table of contents-like (whatever you like to call it/however you like to organize it) can be a lifesaver, especially if the alternative is just a shambolic collection of files.

In EverNote, you can select notes and have EverNote generate a Table of Contents note that contains the title of each note you selected, hyperlinked to take you to that note.  I make a new one of these for any notebook with more than a few notes in it on a weekly basis.  (I have a general physical notebook with a table of contents that I update daily.)

If you use anything where one would be useful: consider it.  You’ll find things faster.

Set (and keep) techy routines.

Set a time, however frequently you need, to check the digital things you have that need to be checked.  This means you won’t overlook things until they’re urgent (or worse), and it will keep you from compulsively checking things as you remember them.  

This can be correspondence, your calendar and to-dos, etc.

I set my times for this as part of my AM and PM routines.

In my AM routine, I also have a note to message Mistress about any questions, plan confirmations, permission requests, whatnot, for the day.  This means I hopefully have fewer, “Oh, I meant to ask—” times throughout the day.  If a similar note would work for you—give it a try!

Use tags.

Wherever you think they might be useful: try tags.  They’re a feature in a lot of productivity software, and you can use them on a lot of email platforms, too.

For example, I use tags in EverNote on recipe notes—to sort by diet (like vegetarian, gluten-free), main ingredient or cuisine (like chicken, Italian, potato), and meal (like breakfast, dinner, dessert, drinks, sides, snacks).  This way I can quickly find something to make for a guest on a special diet, or for a specific craving they’re having.

I also use a form of tagging in my email; I use Gmail’s filters to send emails straight through the inbox to specific labels/tags based on things like who sent them.  This way I have an idea of what emails have come in just by seeing the notification number next to those labels, instead of an unsorted mess of emails.  Pretty much nothing ends up in my general inbox.

Part Three: Collaboration/Other People

How to integrate technological options with real objects and timing, and how shared digital resources can make life easier.

Use shared folders or calendars instead of individual documents or events.

For the people you share things with regularly, go broad.  Save yourself a little bit of time selecting the same sharing settings every time you share a document, and apply those settings to a folder now, and simply drop things in there.  I use Google Drive for most of my collaboration, and so I have a folder I share with Mistress that I can simply drop things in, and it holds things like our contract, guest manual, my slave journal, a checklist for our weekly check in, slave positions guide, etc.  My best friend has a folder we share things in, too, mostly for writing.

Mistress and I have a shared Google Calendar as well, for events and meal planning and whatnot.  For ease of keeping track of my life when we’re trying to make plans, I share a basic calendar with my mom, too.

Tracking someone sounds controlling, leave it to the M-types, right?  Maybe not.

Mistress and I share our locations with each other via Find My Friends.  The fact she can track me raises a few eyebrows, but what actually gets questioned more is when I share that I track her actively way more often than she does the same to me.

I use it not for any kind of control, obviously, but as a service tool—notifications on when she gets within a certain radius of home can let me have last-minute food prep done right before she walks in the door.  When we go on our monthly trip, I use it to be waiting by where she will park at the hotel with coffee I grabbed in the lobby on my way.

Part Four: Specific Idea – Gifting Spreadsheet

The first sheet in my Google Sheets gifting spreadsheet has six columns: Item, Recipient, Occasion, Purchased (indicated via checkbox), Wrapped (indicated via checkbox), and Notes.  I fill it in for every item.  For ideas I have but haven’t committed to an occasion for yet, I put “Any”.  Under notes, I mostly note items that are DIY projects in nature and thus need more time than the others.  Each column is able to be filtered, so I can find all gifts assigned to any one or more recipients or occasions, or see just ones that are purchased but not wrapped (to see what I should go wrap), or purchased and wrapped, or neither (to see what I should go buy and then wrap).

A second sheet has a gifting list (who I gift to for what occasion, to make sure I don’t forget anyone and can plan), a very general ideas list, and an inventory of “Emergency Gifts” (fairly generic gifts bought and wrapped ahead of time with a blank gift tag and a sticky note label of what’s inside, intended for surprise recipients—like ones who give you a last-minute invite to their birthday party, or someone who gets you a gift for a holiday when you didn’t expect one, and you need a reciprocal one for them quickly).

A third sheet is a “have-gifted” reference, where gifts move to from the first sheet once given, to remember for future occasions what has already been given.  This is simplified to Item/Recipient/Occasion with filters.

Part Five: Specific Idea – Butler’s Book

In EverNote, I have a notebook filled with notes labeled with the names of people I know.  I have a template saved that I use and modify as needed, with the template including places for name, birthday, contact information, health information/allergies, general schedule (for making plans), entertainment preferences, “what’s up in their life” (for conversation topics), food and drink preferences (where I frequently link straight to the recipe notes), a “pre-visit checklist” (put extras of their favorite soda in the fridge from the soda shelf, adjust the lighting to their preference, etc.)  I include any notes on things to do the next time I see them—return something borrowed or whatnot.  A quick glance at someone’s note before seeing them can make things go more smoothly.

Day in the Slave Life #3

Note: What it says on the tin—third in a series, a non-fiction piece about one day in my M/s dynamic, hoping to answer some questions I frequently see about the day-to-day life of a slave.

I am barely awake, and Mistress’ morning alarm goes off, and I don’t have much time to ponder why she has an alarm set today at all when she gets up, shuts it off, and gets back into bed.  I happily take the opportunity to curl up against her until the snooze alarm goes off and she gets up to shut that, too, but stays up.

“May I get up, too?” I ask.

She tells me to get into my morning unleashing position while she goes off to the bathroom; I remember last night when she told me to get into my nighttime leashing position and wait while she finished getting a snack, and it was over twenty minutes before she came back.  I can’t help but hope it will be a shorter amount of time this round.  Patience, I tell myself, sitting up cross-legged, pulling my hair out of the way, getting the collar o-ring and attached leash clip to the front of my neck, the leash draped across my upturned palms. I try to keep my back straight. 

I’ve been mentally toying with the idea of mantras and “patience” is a keyword. But it’s only a few minutes this time. She lets me up.  I run through my morning routine—put on my uniform, wash up, do my stretching routine, check with Mistress before I go on my walk.  Half a mile into the neighborhood, half a mile back.

When I return, I finish my morning routine.  Make the bed, prep a pot of coffee for Mistress, start making the morning smoothies.  I sip mine while I get some other things done from my list, quick checks on things in the house; I stick a few more glasses in the freezer to chill, tidy up some things in the living room, rotate laundry through the cycle.

I’m collecting the trash from the smaller bins around the house to combine with the big kitchen trash and recycle bin to take out, replacing the bags, when Mistress comes to get me for our weekly maintenance session.  Well, she tells me to strip, get the maintenance wand—an unassuming short, thick, cane-like wooden implement that’s meaner than it looks—and kneel in the living room presenting it.  So, I do.  Like the leash, the maintenance wand lays on my upturned palms, and I’m practically still getting my back straight enough and my knees the right number of inches apart when she returns.

She sits on the ottoman, beckons me over her lap.  Gives me the familiar instructions.  I get ten strokes with the wand.  “One, thank you, Mistress.  Please may I have another?”  The counting gets breathy quickly.  Just the ten, full force, no warm up or cool down strikes with that wand is enough to bruise a little.  When I count the tenth, she answers my question verbally and tells me no.  Stays with me a bit, then places the wand back on the mantel.  Always in sight.  Gives me permission to dress and go back to what I was doing.

So I dress, and finish taking out the trash.  Throughout the day I play catchup after some sickness and travel, doing so many dishes my hands start to wrinkle, and eight loads of laundry.  Some clothes, bed linens, towels, napkins.  No robes, other table linens, or mop pads today.

Otherwise, I wrap holiday gifts—make a note to ask Mistress a question about the gifts that will be given at an event in a few days, and I might still need to make a toy bag packing list for that too…

I’m hungry and have just started the first steps of making dinner when she tells me to push dinner back a bit, and clean up her office since she’s going to get in the shower and won’t be in it anymore, and set up things to give her a pedicure when she gets out.  I have to think my way through some timing issues—tell her that dinner isn’t as much of a “put in the oven and wait” as she apparently thought, so I can’t do it at the same time, and dinner will be pushed back further than she thinks, but she’s fine with that.  She goes.  

I clean up her office.  Set up the pedicure things.  Still have a bit of time, so I preheat the ovens and handle some of that laundry, and finish that up while she starts soaking.

I give her the pedicure while we’re silent, but she’s watching something I can hear, though I have no context for it and don’t pay much attention to it.  After, I clean up those supplies and start dinner again.  Roasted potatoes, lemon pepper chicken.

After dinner, we do Meta Sunday—our weekly meeting where we run through a list of check-in questions and go over the calendar and anything else.  There’s not a ton going on this week—but there are errands, two kink-ish events, my library volunteer shift, a visit with my family.

After Meta Sunday, I go through my evening routines, clean up the kitchen one more time, finish that laundry.  Wind down.  Write this.  Soon I’ll write my journal, too, though this may be basically it.