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2003-11-21 @ 2:35 p.m. |
| Anybody want to come over and massage my ass for about an hour? Oh, and my inner thigh too...you know, the on-ramp to the Garden of Eden... I kind of dropped a large hint to Married Guy in an e-mail today, but I haven't heard from him. He can't access his work e-mail from his house, which, of course, is why I send them there. Can't be sending off double entendres to the same computer his kids play video games on. Of course he does have that big new shiny laptop. But I was well behaved in my e-mail today. I'm just in a lot of pain, and I need the healing hands of Lourdes on my ass...STAT! Went to my Friday shrink this morning. I don't know what's going on in my head. I have sex-brainitis. The Tuesday guy, always has to say to me at least once, are you obsessing? Or more specifically...are you obsessing again? Isn't that an oxymoron? Obsessing AGAIN? If you're obsessing ONCE..ITS PROBABLY AGAIN, right? I was really tired during my appointment this morning. I had been up until almost 2 a.m. doing absolutely nothing except snorting angrily about the injustice of being stood up by my art class person. It didn't help that I had written that angry entry about my mother (like where did that come from?). I had taken my sleeping pill at 11:30 and yet at 1:45, I was still on the computer reliving the piano-playing injustice from 40 years ago. Its like get the fuck over it. Oh yeah...I obsess about things. So I was telling the Friday guy about my sore butt. I wasn't being graphic in any way. I didn't even say "ass", and I just referred to my thigh pain in a general way. He then decided he had to get up out of his chair and do a spread legged position thingie on the floor. Well, um...ok... He asked me to join him on the floor, but I declined. I couldn't see my ass, resting on anything harder than a large, overstuffed, expensive shrink couch, thank you very much. So he gets down on the floor, and suddenly he his legs are totally horizontal. I wince even thinking about it. Ouch. He's a cyclist. In the summer he'll tell me about lengthy bike trips out in the country. He's in his 60's. He's even lifted weights during my sessions. Its like OK, your macho-ness I get it. You're in good shape. Married Guy did this for me too. My attention had been wondering somewhat, so he invited me into his little impromptu gym one day. He was wearing shorts. He sat down on a bench, his legs were on either side of it and he started lifting weights and making OOooomph noises. He had called me in to talk, but it got harder and harder to understand him because he had to keep making those highly masculine "Oooomph" noises everytime he lifted one of those little weighty thingies. Boy was he macho!! Woo! So the Friday guy is sitting on the floor totally ready to break into two equal parts, and he starts showing me what muscles were benefiting by sitting like that. He's running his hands from his knees up over his balls and back again. He did it several times, with increasing friction, and suddenly I started feeling really uncomfortable. Is it because I am in the sex-brain mode? It has to be. It has to. I convert nearly everything into sex lately. It's an old guy showing me how valuable yoga is, right? I told him if I ever got into that position, I'd have to call 911 and then he was quickly back up into his chair. I guess he realized he was on the verge of...I don't know...something pretty damn, fucking wrong. You know rubbing your balls in front of a patient. Despite the pain, I did go out for a 2 mile walk today. We don't get many sunny days with temperatures in the 50's in these parts, so I have to jump on it....even if I have to limp to get there. Incidentally, today when I got home, I had a $100 check in my mailbox. The hippie chick who made me see red last night finally paid me for my work on the CD from this summer. Guess she knew about my plan hire Tony Soprano for a hit. Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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