I'm employed again!
I now have work again, and so far its been a job I really enjoy. In fact its a job I have had on my life's bucket list. I now work in a fetish clothing store. That's right, I get to work with rubber and leather all day with a great group of people, many of whom I am already friends with. It's one of these new-fangaled zero hour contract deals, but I don't mind as its such a nice team to work with. I really am surprised just how different it is from working in a large corporate company. Everyone knows each other and everyone pitches in to help. You don't get clueless managers going round with paperwork badgering you to work to an unrealistic standard set by head office. It's all people who work alongside you and know what needs to be done. The shop itself is in a very nice aria with a green across the road that's wonderful to sit and have my breakfast and lunches in. Yesterday as it was the boyfriends birthday, on my lunch hour we nipped round the corner to a lovely little Cuban restaurant which served awesome food for actuality decent prices. I'm even loving the fact that I now have a proper commute into work, although I'm sure that novelty will wear off soon. All this has now given me the realization that....
I'm now a Londoner
When the hell did that happen? I now live in London. Not student halls living, but proper contract rent living. I commute on the tube to work, the bf and i have an overpriced cramped house-share to live in. I go drink over priced drinks after work so I don't have to deal with the rush hour on the transport system. We are looking in the mid-term to moving to somewhere near Vauxhall if we are lucky or somewhere like Wimbledon if we are not so lucky. I have taken to city living like a duck to water, and find it suits me down to the ground, the best part is how social I can be with everyone now. Every weekend a fun time out with friends is only 15 minuets away, now if only I could plan my days out better so i could always make it to...
As my membership to the student gym ended with the the university semester, I thought it would be a good time to explore further afield. I chose my local branch of the 'The Gym'. You may have come across them, they are the extremely cheap gym chain that works on the Ryan air model. The monthly payment fee is minimal, but they charge whenever they can. I was shocked to find even the lockers were not coin operated models that are the standard in most gyms or swimming pools. No, you had to bring your own padlock, or purchase a 'The Gym' branded one from a nearby vending machine. Luckily next-door is one of those 99pence shops, the chain that have filled the corpses left by the demise of Woolworth, that sold a sturdier padlock for only a pound. If you are smart and prepare ahead of time to get the extras you will need cheaper elsewhere 'The Gyms' can be great value Now they gym itself isn't bad, however I find most of the gym is dedicated to cardio machines. Apart from dumbbells, the weights section is under supplied and over populated. I've given up on hoping to get the Olympic bar with so many other people prowling around waiting for it to become free. Also, as often as I griped about the disorderly nature of the patrons of my last gym, this gym is worse. I just don't get why it is so hard for people to put weights back in the correct order.
The eye candy here however is a counterweight to my frustration. I seem to have struck it lucky with a plethora of cute cubby boys getting all sweaty as they work hard.
My body is developing nicely, if slowly. Although that is my own lax attitude to the gym. The kind of gains I really would like to make can only be quickly achieved by not letting life get in the way and planing everything around gym visits and a strict eating schedule. The latter I have been improving upon with a much better diet, but meals as a social ritual for bonding and pleasure are too important to me to give up to a regime structured around only fueling the body.
My attitude about my body had been flailing wildly over the spectrum, at times I am fine with my body and like what I see, at others I feel like I have too much of a muffin top and belly and wish to downsize, and others I feel good about my belly but wish my arms and pectorals were better. It is my belief that everyone feels like this from time to time and we live in a day and age where people cannot have a constantly positive body image. I know many people that really hate their bodies all the time and I'm glad i can look at mine, when in a good state of mind, and appreciate what i see in the mirror for its good points. Over all I have become quite secure in my physical identity, lately however I have been thinking about the implications of my inability to find a clear sociological/mental identity.
Existential identity pondering
This deserves its own blog post to fully explain the thoughts and uncertainties I have on this subject, and I will produce one in time. The short explanation is that with few real troubles in my life now my brain has seen fit to find lesser troubles to bother me with. I have found myself mulling over my lack concerted identity that I could identify myself with. Many others in my social circle have this privilege; they are puppy boys, furies, muscle boys, cubs, bears, rubbermen, leathermen, slaves and owned boys. None of the commonly used identifers comfortably fit me. As I have explored these avenues I have found none are for me and I struggle to explain to people who I am and what I enjoy. This may sound silly, but in the kinky world having a pre-made role to use as a shorthand for what you want and will do is a common and useful tool that also helps foster a sense of belonging to a community. As I stated before, this will be its own post and will explain it fully then. Until then I will simply say that my life at the moment is going well and i hope it lasts for a good long while.