i'm turning into a dude
I don't have a lot of sex. I've never had good sex - I know this because I've done the "sleep" test many times (I ask myself, "would I enjoy sleeping just as much as the sex I'm having right now?" If the answer is yes, well, then we know how good the sex isn't).
Back to the all hell breaking loose in my brain: I have begun seeing a great girl. Although she has never had a relationship with a woman before, she is rather gung-ho about the situation. I emphasize the "ho" part of that last sentence, and I don't mean it in a derogatory way. I mean it in the must-have-lots-and-lots-of-sex-eight-days-a-week way. Which is hot. But, we're taking it slow... which I thought would be great but now.... I SIMPLY CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT SEX. ALL DAY. EVERY DAY. When I go to bed, when I wake up, when I'm brushing my teeth, when I'm smoking a cigarette, when I'm watching cartoons. IT'S INVADING MY BRAIN AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP IT!
Now, some of you may be shrugging your shoulders and thinking, "yo bitch, what's your prob? BFD." Well, let me tell you, this is a problem, and I would like to fully demonstrate how thinking about sex all the time as put me in grave danger, both career-wise and physically:
I wake up late, again. I move very slowly in the morning. I check my watch and figure that I will arrive my usual 15 minutes late - maybe 16, since this is not a good morning. I board the C train at W4 and grab a seat. Ah, sweet sittin' down. I close my eyes as the doors close, but instead of grabbing a lil nap, I immediately begin to think about sex. I count the stops with my eyes closed, but I supposed I just got lost in a lusty fantasy involving lots and lots of dirty talk. I feel someone bump into my leg, and grumble as I open my eyes. A fellow has sat next to me, but kinda on me, which pisses me off for several reasons. I glance out the train window as the doors close, only to see my stop, 34th St., begin to slip away. FUCK! I ride to 42nd, totally pissed off as the minutes tick by. I deboard and walk back down to 36th street, arriving a good 28 minutes late. I am greeted with "Hey, nice of you to join us." and "You working bankers' hours now, or what?" Thanks, lovely coworkers. And fuck you very much too.
I am getting a ride home from a coworker. He has agreed to drive me home while running an errand for work - but we have to do the pick up first. I dream of being home on my couch, watching my latest NetFlix DVDs and drinking carbonated Poland Spring with just a hint of lime essence. My coworker tells me to stay in the car, he shall return shortly. At the close of his door, my brain shifts into Sex Drive. I zone out and start thinking about a steamy shower scene. Some time (who knows how long) later, coworker comes back to the car and decides to try and scare me. He beats MANIACALLY on the window and makes a crazy crackhead face. I don't flinch. I don't scream. My heart rate doesn't even fluctuate. I simply turn and look at him, giving him an irritated look. He gets in the car and says, "Um, most people would have at least blinked. What's wrong with you? You didn't even lock the door when I went inside." And he's totally right. I could've been raped and/or mugged, and I probably would've just been annoyed that my sex day dream had been interrupted.
It was raining. I'm walking home from the subway. I had just gotten off the phone with my girl, cemented our plans for dinner and a movie the next evening. I'm smiling like a retard with a bowl full of applesauce. I'm crossing the street. I'm thinking "my place or hers after we do the whole date song-n-dance" when I look up to see a shitty Corolla come to a screeching halt MAYBE three inches from my being. The driver visibly has a heart attack. I kick his car, always wanting to have kicked someone's car, and he drives off. Again, my heart rate is completely even. I continue walking, and about a half a block later I realize: HOLY SHIT THAT GUY ALMOST SPLATTERED MY UNINSURED BRAINS ALL OVER HOUSTON STREET! I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! AND I HAVEN'T GONE ALL THE WAY WITH MY GIRL YET!
Sex almost killed me.
In conclusion, I feel betrayed. My thought-innocence has been abruptly taken away from me, without my consent. I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT SEX.
Is this really what guys have to deal with all the time? Why aren't they all dead?
I'm seriously turning into a dude. And I don't know how to stop it.
this is in or around help me