So probably the next thing worth mentioning is the shape of our early married lives, after I'd graduated and Charles had started teaching again, and we'd moved, yes, back to Greenwich. These were the days of the drawer, as depicted in Emily, Ravished by Porn. They soon also became the days of my own first erotic writings.
I had decided not to try for a corporate job; my goal was to work for a foundation that gave grants to human rights NGO's, and Greenwich was a practically ideal place to start looking, in addition to being a place where I now had a great many wealthy contacts through my new parents-in-law.
I was at home writing white-paperish sorts of things just to have something to say at any interview I might get. I refused to go shopping (really shopping, I mean: clothes, shoes, furniture) more than once a week, though Charles was always telling me that I was being ridiculous and depriving myself of enjoyment for no reason. Commanding me to go shopping, under penalty of the paddle, was outside his brief, though, as master. . . .
For more about the "real" me, read the Companion! You'll find the rest of this post (and it's hot, I promise!) there.