I've yet to use this blog as a dumping ground for crap about boy-related stuff. I made a conscious decision to leave that to the other gals in blogland.
Never say never, right?
So there's this episode of Seinfeld where George achieves intellectual higher ground after going without sex for awhile. No sex freed up parts of his brain previously used for obsessing and strategizing about sex. Soon he was like solving mathematical equations and curing cancer.
No sex had the exact opposite effect on Elaine.
She turned into a blithering idiot.
I think that's happening to me! I'm not going to disclose how long it's been for me, but I will tell that I watched Jeopardy on Saturday and blurted out like fifteen answers that were WAY off, almost embarrasingly so. My mother and my sister looked at me like I was having a stroke. And yesterday I tried reading the paper, but sounding out every other word was exhausting so I turned on the WB.
It's this goddamn dry spell, I'm telling ya!
I've tried to take the high road and not reconnect with former paramours, and this isn't the 90s so some one-nighter is out of the question. Even though there's this sensitive fellow who's trying to romance me and who happens to be about 12 feet away as I type this, he'd probably want to cuddle. And talk. And I'm not interested in that unless get fired because I forget I have a job, or get lost coming home one day.