Psyche is apologetic

Lately, due to various factors, I have caught myself apologising for everything. Standing in the wrong place, saying the wrong thing, having an opinion...
I've begun starting sentences with 'Sorry'.

You know how someone uncomfortable tries to tuck in on themself and take up less space? My repeated apologies have the same effect. I'm trying to apologise for being in Cupid's way or in his space, and in my low moments, that gets big and intense till I want to apologise for existing.

I caught myself repeating this verbal tic this morning, and suggested to Cupid that it should be stopped. I said maybe we should keep a count, and next time he's in charge, I could get a spanking of equivalent number.

He said he'd been thinking much the same. But not a simple count. [I shouldn't have told him about the Pink-Bottomed Girls' brilliant counting games - it fired his mathematical enthusiasm.]

He suggested doubling the spanks each time, or using Fibonacci number (where you add the previous two, so it goes 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34,55...) or maybe triangular numbers (1, 3, 6, 10, 15, 21, 28, 36, 45, 55 ...) or exponentials, or a Turing computer... He obligingly explained how all these work, leaving me reeling slightly. In between his sentences, I would start off, 'Sorry, but how does that work again...?' and then burst out laughing at the thought of having tacked another couple of dozen spanks onto an already excessive number.

This evening, he's out, but I am up to 24 - I kept count carefully in his absence - and I'm dreading our next switching session. The discussion had the benefit, though, that instead of stressing about what's going on in my head to make me apologise, I now just giggle, and shout 'Oh bugger! That's twenty-four!'

This is probably going to be my last post till August, So I'll let you know how this counting game worked out then.

Till then, have fun!