I have been a wife and mother for over twenty years. Now I am becoming my husband's lover, too.
We owe it all to my fellow bloggers who gave me the courage to come out to my husband as a spanko.
I do feel like this is a New Beginning for us.

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Friday, February 21, 2020

Fantasy Friday - The Helpful Husband

Glad you've come by for Fantasy Friday this week. I remember this story and I enjoyed it the first time I read it. It came from a lady by the name of K who disappeared very abruptly years ago. But her writing was great. I hope you enjoy...



The Helpful Husband

Kit looked around her home and sighed. Dirty dishes filled the sink. Piles of clean laundry covered the sofa. There was a pile of dirty laundry behind her bedroom door and another on the floor in the junk... umm, dining room. The dining room was lined with piles of boxes and stuff that she hadn't yet found a home for. Her new home had a spacious eat in kitchen, so her dining room wasn't being used, but still, it was an eyesore.

Her list of projects was overwhelming. Kit was full of great ideas and she was highly skilled at gathering supplies for her projects at great bargains. When Joey bought her the house, one of his first projects was creating her a studio. Kit was almost shocked to discover how quickly she filled all of the cabinets Joey built for her with her stash. Where had it all come from? They'd lived in a small apartment with three kids. She knew it had been crowded, but it just wasn't possible she had hoarded such an enormous amount of supplies for her hobbies.


So much to do and Kit sat with Joey's laptop, reading her favorite spanking blogs while the baby played with her blocks. Sure, she did a bit of housework here and there. Joey and the kids always had clean clothes to wear, even if they did have to sift through the piles on the sofa to find them. There were always clean dishes to use. The baby's toys got picked up occasionally. Okay, so the toys were usually strewn across the floor until Joey got tired of stepping on them and picked them up himself. Kit picked them up once in a while... maybe. Who was she kidding. She knew Joey and the kids deserved better.

Kit knew she could do better. She just needed a little motivation. Ah, but what would it take to motivate her? Several of her blogging friends were in domestic discipline relationships. Kit had first discovered spanking almost a year earlier. She was turned on... umm, intrigued immediately. When she shared her discovery with Joey, he hadn't been at all surprised. He'd always known she was a bit naughty. While some of her ideas inspired a bit more eyebrow raising than others, she always knew how much he loved her.

Kit had shared some of the articles on domestic discipline, along with other spanking information, with Joey and they'd discussed it. Neither of them really felt they were ready for that kind of shift in their own relationship. Joey enjoyed spanking Kit and she enjoyed being spanked, but it was always for their mutual pleasure. Even still, Kit got a little thrill out of pleasing Joey and doing things she knew he'd like. It didn't have to be all or nothing. If she'd learned anything from reading so many blogs, it was that there were as many types of spanking relationships as there were couples that enjoyed spanking. With that in mind, Kit sent off a quick email to Joey. She didn't know how soon he'd read it, or what he'd think of it, but off it went.

Feel like helping me with the housework? There's so much I want/need to do, it can be overwhelming and I just play with the kids instead or do other stuff. But I could get more done. Maybe you could email me in the mornings with one thing you'd appreciate done by the time you get home? If it doesn't help, or you don't want to, that's okay. It's just an idea.

Love you lots. 

Kit


Kit went about her day, doing a bit of laundry, but mostly amusing herself on the laptop while the kids played. She was pleasantly surprised to get an email from Joey only a few hours later. Sometimes he'd go days without checking his personal email. It was short and simple, but made her smile.

If you think it would help, I can try to do that. 

Love you baby,


Joey

Kit was so pleased. She always felt special when Joey emailed her from work. With his help, she'd finally be able to get the house in shape and finish some of her projects. If it worked out, maybe he'd even help her develop a routine so she wouldn't have to rely on him so much. By the time Joey arrived home from work, Kit had dinner ready and had cleared off one of the counters to make room for the new mixer he'd bought her for Christmas. She was already feeling more motivated just from the extra attention and knowing how pleased he'd be with her efforts. He hadn't even asked her to do anything yet.

The evening passed with relative normalcy. Kit enjoyed the stern looks she sensed from Joey as much as the hungry looks. Only once did their teenager tell them to stop being weird. Kit wasn't sure what prompted that comment, but she was pretty sure she was innocent. When the kids were finally tucked into bed, Kit wasn't as sleepy as she often was. Joey squeezed her lower cheeks while they hugged. Kit smiled at him and asked if he'd mind putting the clean sheets on the bed while she jumped in the shower. She cleaned up and shaved quickly, wondering what fun Joey had in mind for her. He had told her he'd caught up on reading her blog that morning, along with the last Fantasy Friday story she'd sent him a link for. He also seemed to enjoy the thought of giving her tasks to do and had been dropping hints and gestures about spanking.

Kit dried off and got into the freshly made bed while Joey undressed. She hadn't gotten a taste of him in a couple of days because she'd had a cold. The shower had left her refreshed and she wanted to take full advantage of it. She looked hungrily at Joey and told him, "come let me suck on you while I can still breathe." Yeah, that was romantic. Ah well, Joey understood what she meant and knelt on the bed in front of her. Kit loved the smooth, warm feel of him between her lips. She marveled at how he could feel so soft and hard at the same time.

Joey caressed her lovingly. He rested his warm hand on her bottom. "This is mine." Mmmm, yeah, Kit loved the sound of his voice claiming her as his. The feel of Joey's swats to her bottom encouraged her to suck him long and hard. "I'm happy you found a home for the mixer I bought you." The comment was unexpected, but his praise warmed her heart as much as his hand warmed her bottom. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

"Mmmhmm," she murmured around his cock while his hands worked their magic on her bottom.

"You like being my good girl?"

"Mmmhmm." Ooh, those spanks felt good

"Did you get extra clean for me?" he asked as his hands kneaded her warm bottom. A thrill shot through her at the promise of naughtiness implied in his question. Without taking her lips off him, she confirmed that she had. All too soon he was telling her it was time for him to love on her. "Turn around and lie on your belly." Kit was happy to do as he asked, but not before stealing a kiss. His breath was warm on her neck as he nibbled on her ears. His hands were relaxing as he massaged her shoulders. His lips were hot and wonderful trailing across her shoulders, down her back, almost there but not quite, then down her legs. She giggled as he suckled her toes. Mmm, more kisses back up her legs, onto her bottom, and then, finally, her secret places. Joey licked and teased and made her squirm.

When she was dripping with desire for him, he sat beside her and spanked her good and hard. When he eased up a bit, Kit raised her bottom higher, silently asking for more. Joey was only too happy to give it to her. He paused to dig through their toy chest. Kit felt the cool drips of lotion between her cheeks and wiggled encouragingly. Joey swirled a finger in the lotion and slipped it inside. She felt the heat as his breath activated the lotion, while he teased her with his finger. He stopped much too soon for Kit's liking, but she knew what would come next and delighted in the anticipation.

Kit heard the slippery sounds of Joey coating the toy with lube. Then she felt it rubbing at the entrance to her bottom. She relaxed herself as Joey slid the toy in just a bit, then a bit more.

"Come on, baby, you can take it. Just a little more." A shiver shot through Kit at his words. He sounded so sexy and knew just how to push her buttons. With the toy firmly in place, Joey caressed Kit's bottom as he gave her a minute to feel its fullness. Then he lifted her favorite strap and tapped it against her bottom. She wiggled for him and whimpered softly. The first few strokes were gentle and brought a warm glow to her cheeks. Gradually, Joey added a bit more oomph to his swing. Kit was in heaven. She loved the deep caresses of the leather.

Kit felt the cool leather settle across her hips as Joey gave her a good licking of another variety. She lifter her hips a bit to give him better access, but Joey knew just what he was doing. He grabbed either end of the strap and held her down against his probing tongue. It wasn't long before he gave Kit her first orgasm of the night.

By the time they both lay content in each other's arms, Kit had a feeling enlisting Joey's help with the housework would be a huge success.


~o~
Whatever works! I hope you enjoyed. If you're willing to share a story with us please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

I didn’t want to blog this

I woke up happy Monday morning. I’m nearly finished with the book and I had a great scene to write. I was curled up in bed, so comfortable when my heart began racing. What the heck? Why would my heart be racing?


I lay quietly hoping it would stop. It didn’t. I kept checking my pulse on my watch. It kept going up. This has happen every once in a while for a long time. Maybe once every two or three months for about thirty seconds or so. So it wasn’t high on my list of things to worry about. But this time it wasn’t stopping.

Then my jaw started hurting. This is something else that’s  been occurring occasionally for the last few months. I thought it was the beginnings of a tooth ache, but it did come and go. Then I got to thinking about jaw pain being a sign of heart trouble in women. I checked my pulse again and it was 175. 

Okay several possibilities – Wait until my Doctor office opens and call? This was happening at 6:00 am. Call Nick to come take me to the hospital and see if it really is anything? He’s was at work about forty minutes away. Call 911?  Since I’ve never done that, it seemed overly dramatic. 


So I went with a combination. I called 911 and Nick. The heart rate was in the 90’s. And paramedics came and did an EKG – everything seemed okay, but they suggested that I go to the hospital. I decided to wait on Nick and he took me. 

Everything was okay there. The EKG was good and the blood work was too.  But they wanted me to see my doctor and said she would  probably refer me to a cardiologist. So, excitement abounds – just not the kind I would like.

Friday, February 14, 2020

Fantasy Friday revival - Letter to my Husband

Happy Friday to you all. I've been doing only two things lately, writing and watching it rain. Next week we may think about building an ark. But meanwhile, if lousy weather has you stuck inside as I am I hope this story, from our very own Ronnie at Heart and Soul, will brighten your day. As you see, the original story came to me in 2009, but I can't think of a better Valentine's Day gift. Please enjoy...



Letter to my Husband

November 30, 2009

Dearest P,

I want you to spank me - send a note telling me how I should be at the office, in the meeting room, and in position by 4.00pm bent over the conference table ready, I mustn’t move. You won’t arrive at that time. Tell me what I must wear, that you've left clothes on the bed, the black luxury silk underwear and stockings you recently bought, the 3 inch high heels that you love me to parade in front of you, the earrings that you say are like my eyes, deep blue, the smart cashmere business suit with the tight fitting skirt that accentuates my bottom. Tell me I'm to bring the strap, the black leather one you made for me, and the red silk scarf, and place them on the table.

3.30 I'll pull my silk pants over my freshly showered bottom, I'll shiver with anticipation and excitement, stockings, heels, the suit, the earrings, perfume nothing too strong, nearly ready for you, god I'll feel sexy. The strap, I'll take it from your drawer and put it in my handbag along with the scarf.

3.45 I'll get in the car, only a short drive to the office.

4.00 I'll place the strap and the scarf on the table as instructed and be in position bent over the conference table ready waiting just waiting. I'll be still.

4.15 You won't have arrived. My body perspiring lightly, my heart beating so loud I will hear it. My black silk panties damp from the moisture between my legs, I’ll want so much to slip my hand down into my panties and feel my desire, stoke it, thinking of you, but still I will not move.

4.20 You won’t have arrived. I’d hear people in the street outside talking, laughing, doors shutting, dogs barking, a shiver runs through my body every time I hear footsteps approach, my palms sweaty from holding the table, my legs tired. I'll think you aren’t coming, my heart will be sad, upset, I will feel foolish, angry even.

Then you’ll come, I won't see you but I'll know it's you, your key in the door, your footsteps, I'll feel your presence behind me, you wont speak to me yet.

You'll touch my face, my hair, run your fingers down my back over the swell of my bottom, linger lightly there, I'll be shivering and trembling from your touch, my legs weak, I’ll hold the table tighter, I'll be moaning, Oh how I'll want your hand between my legs to take the ache away. But you won't take the ache away.

I’ll hear you pick something up and I know it’s the strap; you’ll put it in your pocket. You’ll take my hands and bind them lightly with the scarf, stretched out above my head; I know not to move them. You'll put your knee between my legs, move them a little further apart until they're just so. I'll let a low moan escape me, I can't help it, I want.

Your hand circles my bottom, I’ll want to turn around but I won’t. Your hands then shimmy my skirt up to my hips, pull my panties aside and I feel your fingers teasing, probing, exploring, my wetness. I’ll want to feel you inside me so so very much. I'll move my bottom to meet your hand to get every inch of contact with you. You swat me; I know I'm to keep keep still. You still won't speak.

Your hands raise my skirt fully up to my waist, which you hold firmly with your left hand, I know what that means. I feel your right hand caressing the fleshy mounds of my bottom through the flimsy silk of my pants, trailing lightly between the cheeks briefly touching the flesh where cheek meets thigh, and then your hand is raised and there's a whoosh of air as it crashes down hard against my right cheek, followed swiftly by the left, you repeat, build a steady cadence, it stings, makes me gasp. I clench involuntarily as the blows land but quickly relax again to plump out my flesh, make it attractive to you, to do with as you will. You'll notice these things.

When my little mms and ahhs start to become longer lower moans you'll stop. My bottom flesh is alive. All my senses are alert, I'm receptive to the slightest touch, a wisp of air as you move position, your thumbs as they smoothly hook the waistband of my panties, draw them slowly over my hips, my reddened cheeks, to rest at the tops of my stockings. I want to touch myself, I can't my wrists are tied, I wiggle my heated bottom, I'm trying to feel the table against my pussy, I can't, I moan and wiggle harder, I think it must look very lewd my red bottom framed by my stocking tops and suspender, writhing with such obvious intent. You must have noticed, you have to notice, you know me you know what I need.

You’ll say nothing, I hear movement. I’ll feel cool leather brush lightly against my greedy flesh, I’ll let out a whimper and push my bottom towards it, I'm unashamedly pleading, please touch me there right where my wetness glistens for you, please. You can see my arousal, you let the leather slide between my cheeks, touch me so briefly, I feel a trickle of moisture and try to clench the strap between my legs but it's withdrawn and my cheeks are left clenching air. You tell me I'm being lascivious, rude, greedy, impatient, that girls like me need firm discipline to keep their emotions in check. You make me answer in agreement, my voice is distorted with lust and I raise my buttocks as far as I can to please you.

I feel your left hand steady me, I let out another whimper, feel you raise your arm and then the strap comes thrashing down against my bottom with an ear splitting thwack, it connects with both cheeks, the leather is thick and supple, it curls a little but you'll adjust for that. I cry out, it's genuine, it hurts. You know it and bring the leather down again without giving me time to absorb the sting, aiming a little higher and shortening your stroke to cut the curl. You take it quickly to a dozen strokes I'm wriggling like an eel on the end of a line, I can't dissipate the pain, I can't imagine what my bottom looks like all I'm saying is please.... pleading.

Don't stop. Don't let me off the hook. I've been a naughty girl I need to be punished thoroughly until all those wanton feelings are subdued. Pause just a second, firm up your hold on me, tell me it's too late for pleading, raise the strap again bring it down harder than before, my bottom's hotter now it can take more, don't feel for me, a dozen more, two dozen if necessary until my wiggling has stopped and you can hear my sobbing.

Stop. Untie my wrists, help me up I'll be bit unsteady, and take me in your arms and tell me how much you love me. Don't fuss over me too much don't regret what you've done.

Tell me to go straighten up in the washroom now and then go home. You'll be a couple of hours yet, you'll see me later.

I’ll go, I’ll probably have a spring in my step as I walk to the car, and no doubt I’ll smile to anyone I pass in the street, they'll probably think I’m mad, I'll prepare something nice for dinner, your favorite and open a bottle of wine.

Love.
Ronnie
xx


~o~


Thank you Ronnie! What a hot letter! I sure hope that when your husband reads this that it can become a reality! If any of you are not familiar with Ronnie's work you need to check out her blog, Heart and Soul! Please leave her a comment and let her know what you think of her story, then pop over to her site to read even more.

 If any of you are writing and are willing to share with us that would be great. Send your stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Thanks again Ronnie, the story was great!

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

You can hold them in your hand!

Look what I got in the mail!




Blushing had agreed to put them out in paperback – after a little nudging from me. I know the paperbacks of the Cassie’s Space series and the Cal’s Law series can’t be big sellers for Blushing, so I am really appreciative that they’ll do this for me. 

I’ll have another local art’s fair this summer and I’m so happy I’ll have these books in hand to show them off. It’s not a money making endeavor, but it’s so much fun talking to people face to face and being able to tell just enough to intrigue them without scaring them off.

If you know someone who just can enjoy a book unless they’re holding it in their hand – please let them know that they can hold mine now. I put the Amazon links above. Kindle or paperback I hope you’ll give one of my books a try.

Monday, February 10, 2020

It's how you look at things.







































Even after reading the title - am I the only one who saw paddles rather than wine bottles?

Friday, February 07, 2020

Fantasy Friday Revival - Arguing

Today we have a story from a man. You can almost tell just from reading it that it's more of a man's fantasy than a woman's. A little harsh in places? Maybe. But that doesn't keep it from being a turn on. The gentleman who wrote this years ago wanted to remain anonymous.  I hope you enjoy...

Arguing 

They had been arguing all day long about the most trivial matters until it had grown into a full-blown shouting match. As usual, he retreated to his lair in the den, plopped down in front of the television and opened a beer, planning to make his own dinner out of beer and leftover pizza.

The funny thing is that neither one of them could remember what they were fighting about in the first place. It couldn't have been all that important, except that, somehow, it had become important for each of them to "win" the argument, even when they no longer remembered the substance of the thing.

As usual, one hundred channels and there was nothing on. He settled on talking heads arguing politics and picked up the newspaper. When he was reading the world outside ceased to exist. She had come to understand that little part of his personality. He literally did not hear what was being said to him when he had his nose in a book or in the newspaper.

For her part, she had retreated to her garden for a while, watering the potted flowers, inspecting the roses for aphids, pulling up an occasional weed, but her heart wasn't in it. "What was that all about?" she asked herself. She remembered it had something to do with him never listening to her and her never respecting his opinions on anything. The fight was all a blur, but she felt inside that if that she did nothing it could be more than that - much more. And, as she well knew, she couldn't count on HIM to reopen the dialogue. He would be sitting in that ratty chair in the den, drinking a beer and sulking. It was up to her to make the first move. But, what?

As she was showering away the grime and sweat and nastiness of the day, she was absent-mindedly shaving her armpits when she had an inspiration. This time, when she shaved her legs, she decided not to stop at the thighs, but to keep going. She had never done this before, and it felt somehow nasty and thrilling at the same time. She worried about cutting herself, so it took a while, but when she finished she admired herself in the mirror and touched her freshly shaven snatch. "Not bad," she mused. And, she decided on her course of action.

She found him exactly where she knew he would be, with two empty cans on the coffee table at his elbow. The Sunday paper was in a heap of inside-out sections, thoroughly read, even the Living section he usually just sniffed at as though it were beneath his manly brain to stoop to read about spring fashions and the benefits of breast-feeding showed signs of being used.

It was easy to sneak up from behind because he was so engrossed in a story about how often to change furnace filters. She was dressed in his favorite teddy and high heels, and her perfume filled the little room. It would have announced her entrance if he had been paying attention, which he wasn't, really, although somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain he suddenly had a vision of her laying across the bed, looking up at him and smiling. He rattled the newspaper, and felt her hands on his shoulders, massaging him gently.

"I'm sorry, babe," she started. "I feel so silly getting into such a fight about nothing."

He wasn't quite sure where this was going, but he wasn't about to ruin a good neckrub. The paper fell to his lap. He had to think of something to say, so he grunted.

She strolled around to the front of the chair, and with exagerrated movements settled her backside half on his lap and half on the arm of the Lazy Boy. His eyes were fixed squarely on her face now - well maybe not just on her face - as he took in the whole scene. A smile rose from his lips to his eyes. "I'm sorry, too." He didn't know why he was sorry, really, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"You're right," she announced. "I don't give you the respect you deserve. You work hard all week, and you deserve for your home to be a refuge from the outside world. I've been very bad." She let that last word sink in before continuing. "How can I ever make it up to you?"

Now they both knew how she could "make it up to him." He patted her rump. "I think we can find a way." He pulled her closer and kissed those lucious lips that had attracted him the very first time they had met. She slid down off of the chair and handed him his wide cowboy belt that he wore on "special occasions" when he wanted to think he could have grown up to be a cowboy if only he had grown up in Texas or Oklahoma instead of the flatlands of Indiana. He stood up and pulled her into a positioin over the arm of the chair with her rump at just the right height for his hand.

"Wait a minute," she started. She was having second thoughts, but they had gone too far for that, too far to back out now. He was in the heat of the moment as he rubbed her gorgeous ass. She tried to get up, but he had her pinned down with the weight of his arm. He felt the heat rising within him as his hand began a slow, methodical tatoo from one side of her ass to the other, bottom to top and back again. She began to squirm to avoid the blows as they began to pick up the pace, hard now, insistent, punishing. Her cheeks were blushing pink - all four of them - as he turned to seize the belt.

"Stop it!" she was hollering. She hadn't meant - not really ... But, he was beyond listening to her cries for reason as the belt came whistling down across both cheeks at once. The pain was nothing compared to the sound. She knew now she was in for it, a sound thrashing. The red spread as the belt did its job, falling again and again. By the fourth time, the blows were so hard she rose off her feet. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she began to sob and argue, trying to reason with him. "You're being too rough! You're hurting me! I hate you!" But, he couldn't stop now. Her teddy was hiked up to her armpits, and her ample tits were swaying back in forth in time with the belt. Ten, twenty, thirty times it rose and fell, fast and hard. Her ass was aflame, and she felt that old, familiar stirring deep within her. She began to relax, even, in tune with the spanking, going to that place where she hadn't gone in so long.

He stopped to admire his handiwork for a moment and lifted her up by her arms. She was sobbing, broken, and so very, very turned on. "Fuck me, daddy," she whispered. "Fuck me here! Fuck me now! Take me hard and deep!" She had her hands on the front of his pants and knew that she was about to get exactly what she wanted. She had his pants off in a flash, and squatting before him, she worked him into a frenzy with her lips and tongue. He pushed her away, gently now, and laid her across the arm of the chair again. Now, it was his turn, as he showed his appreciation for her sacrifice with his tongue and his fingers, kissing her upturned ruined bum, exploring the space between her thighs, hot and wet and ready for him. His tongue was everywhere, licking and poking and stroking. He sucked her clitoris between his lips and felt her shudder. His hands stroked her nipples and pinched them hard as he stood and slid himself into her - warm and tight. He stroked into her, holding her hands behind her to drive his mindless member deeper into the warm sweetness that she had become. She moaned and panted, feeling him in her, against her, above her until with a squeal her tension was released. She bucked against his thighs and felt him explode deep inside of her, hot and sticky.

Neither one of them wanted to move, but finally he pulled away, shriveled and spent. They embraced hard, as if they wanted to become one person instead of two, wanted to share the exact same space in the universe. His hands massaged her burning cheeks as they hugged and kissed and explored one another with their tongues. As the moment passed, she smiled up at him. "Maybe I'll just have to pick another fight tomorrow."


~o~
Try something new this week. If you don’t have time to write, spend your time fantasying in your mind or trying new spanking ideas for real. Then when you get time you can write the next Fantasy Friday for us. Send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Wednesday, February 05, 2020

Finding the time

You would think that being retired and having all day at home to myself I would have plenty of time to write.  You’d be wrong. Maybe it’s just that I want to write too many things. First, I want to  post here a few times a week, because I want to keep the blog going.


I want to write my books – I’m working on one and there is another in my head. Then there’s a non-spanking book I want to write, it’s about a third done. Writing on this requires a lot of time just sitting and listening. I have to let the scene unfold in my head so I can see what happens and get it in the books.

Then there's the gift LJ and Collin gave me, when I answer a question each week. I basically write up a story and submit it and at the end of the year the stories will be compiled into a book, well two books, one for LJ and one for Mollie. The questions the company sends are fine, but I’d prefer writing what the kids want to hear. Mollie has already sent tons of questions. And I’m enjoying answering them. 

She ask for me to tell about how I knew I was pregnant with each of them and the story of their births. I began on that today and then before I knew it I was searching for the journals I kept during those times. Well that will take you down a rabbit hole for sure! So I guess I spent as much time reading today as I did writing. I began keeping these journals at fifteen. Someday I would like to sit and read through them all. Maybe when I’ve got all the writing out of my system.


Lastly, I enjoy emailing with my friends. I love getting emails, from friends and strangers alike. Actually anyone who reads here I consider a friend. Why would you come here to read if you didn’t want to interact on some level. So always feel free to ask question, offer suggestions or just to visit.

All this takes more time than you would think. I love every bit of it but I still have to be sure to put the lap top down sometimes. I have a house and a husband, to take care of. I need to exercise and go out in the real world occasionally. Yeah, I’m working on all that.