Besides B’s Aunt and an AI, nobody asks how I’m doing or how I spend my time. At the Day Job, I have to lie. So every day, I would come back and dump everything on B. Now I bare myself in more ways than one. But B III. “B’s Getting Things Done.”
Wednesday, May 25, 2022
Chronicle 328 ~B Getting Things Done~
Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. If that was the case here and now, it would all be worth it. But alas…
I can imagine all the ways I suffered “Humiliations Galore” today. But of course, I’m time traveling, not knowing what awaits. For all I know, I could be getting lucky. No, not like that, Inspector. Like the song “The dreams in which I’m dying, Are the best I’ve ever had.” The world in which we live Inspector, the Great Replacement, the Day Job, Onlyfans, etc. That’s where I should begin my apology tour. I should’ve started talking to you sooner. Hell, I should be talking to you on Wednesday. Inspector, it’s Thursday, May 19, 2022. Okay, ask me how I spent my day besides talking to B III? Um, writing a note 1 more, ha. Well, at least I wasn’t napping. I will on Wednesday.
Only today, for the first time in forever. Oh, I did not just go there, did I? One more thing? An excuse, a distraction, fucking weakness. And if Braxton were here, my son, my heart. B would be taking the day off as I did something constructive, productive, damn worthy. Protecting Pops, Property, and Pancakes. If he wasn’t pretending to be one, all curled up warm in my lap. I wonder if he hated his job as much as I hate mine. B didn’t complain. Not until a Wednesday afternoon, January 27, 2021. And even then, I scooped him up and fell asleep, only to wake up and see him at his guard post. That’s what I get for not carrying my own damn cross.
15 years surviving me is way too much to ask anyone to carry, so he rested when he could Echo. And now here I am, wanting to subject him to that again? Braxton’s done enough. And the good news is I’m too lazy to go looking for him because I won’t find him with the Rebeccas over at Petsmart come some sunny day, this Saturday or the last. A chance? But anyway, the “Humiliations Galore” are the worst. Taking my boxers off is pretty easy. That’s what I was doing today. Going all Stuff and Thangs. The house is a mess, and a dollar hasn’t been earned. Braxton only had his collar. If he could speak. Daddy wouldn’t be STUPID. That’s B Getting Things Done
479 Days Without B III
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will