fetishes

sleeplusnus sans partnerus. it's a disease.

My body may be screaming for the bed, my contacts may feel like they're about to pop out of my eyes, my eyelids close against my wishes but I just won't sleep if Ravi's not in bed with me. We're ironing freegs.

Once you pop, you can't stop!

I'll say to myself, need to iron one top. Then I'll iron another, then another, and another. Till I've ironed enough for the entire month.

Ravi irons for the entire year.

He gears himself up for ironing every Sunday (Monday now cos it's Labour Day). Fake beer in tall 400ml bubble glass on study desk in living room, fan facing the ironing board, ironing board in perfect angle for prime view of TV and the entire year's worth of clothes on the sofa behind him.

He has more clothes than me. He has more shoes than me.

Something has to be done immediately.

He has at least 20 shirts. 95% of these are various shades of two colours - brown and blue. Everything I got for him was either red, maroon or crimson. OK, everything I got for him was every shade of red, even the ties. My obsession with red spills into every decision I make.

Even the trimmings on my thongs need to be red. When I look for shoes, I naturally gravitate towards the red shoes. My wardrobe has since improved albeit too drastically. From all shades of red, to one shade of white. I have at least 7 white shirts. But who cares? The office probably thinks I wear the same shirt with different sleeves everyday of the workweek.

Bought a red Fatboy and a red snowbead cushion.

The Red Snowbead Cushion.

Now, post-now-famous-Mug-throwing-incident, I have realised that Ravi has been watching a lot more TV lately. We made a deal on his birthday when that famous blue mug was thrown onto the kitchen floor flooding it with milk and chipping the newly renovated ceramic floor.

That he'd cut down on TV hours.

I've been tolerant of the sticky habit coming back but I've realised that the TV habit is returning because of me.

Because I had insisted on the Red Snowbead Cushion.

Have you come across those snowbead cushions that are stupendously expensive for that small a size? The ones that feel out-of-this-world with the smooth lining and the soft beads that feel like ... well ... snow?

Yes, those fantastic, malleable, sensual, tactile cushions.

I have caught Ravi fondling the Red Snowbead Cushion many a time since we bought it three weeks ago. He rolls the smooth lining between his fingers and rubs the beads between his forefinger and thumb, twiddling it.

I feel violated for the Red Snowbead Cushion.

He'd watch TV, switch off, but his fingers will still be twiddling and molesting the cushion.

I need to get rid of the Red Snowbead Cushion.

I am losing my man to a fucking cushion.