Last night, I slept for almost 7 hours. When I woke up, I was boastful. I was on some, “Who’s got two thumbs and 7 hours of sleep?! Awwww yeah!” So tonight, the Sandman showed me who was running shit, and has made me his bitch.
This past week, I have been feeling extra sweet. I don’t even know why. I got off the train, and it seems that when I hit the air, I was enveloped by a blanket of sexy. I go through that from time to time. Not even for a particular reason. I’m just feeling myself. I went out this weekend, nobody was trying to holler, no random compliments on the train, nothing. But good luck trying to convince me that I don’t have straight up deliciousness going on.
Tonight, the hour became late. I became restless. It was too late to eat. TV seemed boring. Maybe I could…I mean, I haven’t visited my no-no in quite some time. For those of you who read me often enough, you know that when I detail my tales of self gratification, they always end in comedy rather than eroticism. And yes, this visit to my no-no was no exception. The thing is, my no-no has been really good to me lately. It’s really been on some, “You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you” shit. It’s not that I’m devoid of sex drive. I just keep myself too occupied to think about it – much.
Tonight, my no-no stood between me and the sweetest of sweet releases like Gandalf in “The Fellowship of the Ring” and shouted, “YOU SHALL NOT PAAAAAAAAASSSSSS!” Then, my no-no demanded that I bring her a man. Then she got saucy and said, “And he’d better not be a bullshit muthafucka either.” Damn no-no. She’s being beggar AND a chooser. Yikes.
And the thing is, there isn’t even a “well, maybe I should get to know him better” guy. There’s still some baggage I’m getting rid of, and I don’t want to carry those issues into a potential new situation. I mean, of course I have crushes here and there. Actually, there’s a guy that I have a fairly healthy sized crush on, and I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m cute, but no more than that. Plus, I’m fairly certain he’s not digging me like that. And even if he were, I would refer you back to reason number one. I think after the Heartbreaker (The Artist Formerly Known As The Chupacabra Hunter) gave me the working definition of the road to hell being paved with good intentions, that cut my appetite for being in a relationship. Of course, there’s an expiration date on how long i can say he’s the reason for my lack of desire for a relationship. Once upon a time, I believed that I couldn’t experience deep feelings for a person at all, and he proved that wrong. I’m sure I’ll meet a brother that will, at least, make me rethink my position and get back on the horse (and other things) again.
I haven’t quite figured out how I will handle the burden of my own sexiness and the impending wrath of my no-no (I think that bitch is making a picket sign), but I don’t intend to let life pass me by while I find out.
