So, a couple days ago I left something potentially incriminating out in the open, completely by accident. [note: it was the “women’s razor” I’d bought for shaving my body hair.] I know I’m usually very open and don’t make any effort to conceal things or be vague here on my blog, but forgive me this one departure from my usual kiss-and-tell self — I have my reasons.
Anyway, this something was left in an open enough and highly-trafficked enough area that I have no doubt that the parental units saw it out there, and while I took care of it later, I have reason to suspect that they’re “testing the waters” so to speak by leaving similar items around in about the same place as a “let’s see if Sophia brings up the subject so we can catch her being ‘naughty’ and then use that as an excuse to drag out every last dirty detail about the rest of her life that she’s been hiding!” kind of deal… Now while there’s every possibility that it’s a total coincidence, and I’m getting all frazzled and paranoid over nothing, it’s hard to stay calm when I have the specter of that huge confrontation hanging over me.
It seems that no matter how many times I command myself, “Sophia, chill out!”, “Miss ‘Phia, calm down, don’t stress over it!”, or “Be the Lady you claim you are and grow up about it, take life as it happens and let be what will be!” — I still keep those butterflies flitting around inside me, and it’s really not fun being so worked up.
I’m still happy overall, and I’ve been doing pretty well at not letting perceived potential confrontations that may or may not even happen get me down too much, but staying happy has occasionally been a bit of work. Better to work a little and stay well than to let it all slide and feel like shit, though… right? Yeah. Definitely.
On a completely unrelated note — I can now confidently say that I’m at a point where I no longer cut, scratch, or otherwise mangle myself when I shave my pubic hair! It wasn’t a completely simple process like I’d expected, especially since my legs — which are so much more complex shapes — are a cinch (okay, usually a cinch; of course this morning would be the day I slice my knee because I managed to lose control of the razor for a minute…) So I’m pretty happy that I can take care of my grooming and personal care without (for the most part) any injuries, where just a month ago I was fed up with trying to wrangle the fur-monster all day long and had never nuked the hair in the area.