Dang. Double Dang.

I got email from my boy this morning. Last weekend, a pipe broke in the PH. Part of one of the playrooms was destroyed. In the midst of tearing up a floor and a wall to repair the pipe and undo some of the damage, b.w. came in contact with some black mold, and also some toxic substance in the floor. He's been feeling poorly ever since. (This was the reason for our aborted scene last Sunday night.) He's been resting all week in hopes of getting himself in good shape for getting whipped tonight. I decided to hope for the best.

In his email this morning, he said that he had broken out in hives, but that he thought that he would be up for playing tonight. And, he asked me to call. I called twice, and there was no answer. So, here's what I'm going to do. I'll pack up my toy bag for a whipping scene as we planned, but also bring along enough vet wrap to do a mummmification, in the event that he's not up for getting whipped.

I have a sneaking suspicion that when I get over there, I'm going to find him with a 103 degree fever and that nothin ain't gonna be happenin t'night.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. And angry. Unjustifiably so. I mean, if someone is sick, then they can't very well be asked to do something that could make things worse. According to the rules of etiquette, social commitments are iron clad. If you agree to be the best man at the wedding or attend the dinnner party, then unless you're hospitalized, you show up. Professional athletes have taken the field in states of being really bad off as well. But in many ways, this is diffferent. I wouldn't want to do a scene if my partner isn't going to enjoy it. Still, I'm disappointed and angry. I'm stuffing self-doubting thoughts along the lines of, "If he really wanted to make this happen, he could have pulled himself together for it." It meant a lot for me to be a part of the dungeon demo that GMSMA is putting on, and playing in front of men I respect, admire, and like.

Oh well. Perhaps I'll get over to the PH, and there he'll be, rested, feeling fresh, showered and eager to go, and everything will be great. But that seems unlikely. Damn damn damn. Well, life goes on. Sorry for being sophomorish, but admitting to myself how I'm thinking and feeling about this is the first step towards changing the way I'm thinking and feeling about this.

Anyway.

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