Now, anyone that knows me well, will know that I adore people. I like being in company old and young. Chatting and listening and laughing.
People are interesting. Most of the time.
It’s just that at the moment, I’m bored. I am. I feel like I’m there but I’m not. Do you know what I mean?
It’s not a sad observation. I’m not huddled in the corner thinking “Oh my word, I don’t fit in here!”. I’m just sort of.. how can I put this…
I feel like I’m not in sync with others around me. I’m sitting there and nodding and smiling and thinking….well not exactly thinking great thoughts.
Thoughts flashing through my mind are:
- she’s as deep as a 5c piece
- tell me a real problem
- Your child is normal love. No! not a genius! No! Not a sports legend.
- How would I spend my lotto winnings? (This is my favourite thought)
- should I wallpaper the wall in my bedroom?
And frankly the problem lies with me. This not syncing with the rest of the world thing. I know this for a fact.
You see….I think it’s because I’m reading total smut on my kindle. I’m talking throbbing manhood kind of smut. Reaching a full O against the wine barrel.
You may not remember but I mentioned losing my “mojo” a while back. Yes, my Mojo disappeared and things were.. Well, they went dead. Like in….completely.
I panicked because I was only just, just, just 40. Doesn’t this happen much later?
And now I’m preoccupied. Because, well I’ve started feeling some,
fuckload of stirrings in my loins. And it feels great, gorgeous, delicious to feel horny again.
I feel young and sexy.
and… I’m feeling my husband. A lot.
and he’s feeling me. A lot.