No dreams last night, or at least none that I can remember. I stayed in bed too long.

I’m trying to parse out why that is.

One reason is that my back and neck are tense. I’m not one to automatically blame emotions per se, as the causality could easily be the other way around. I’ve been doing some light exercise (light for me) and maybe I’m working out in such a way that certain muscles are too stressed, without working the opposing muscle groups. I know what I have to add, and I know that I have to find a new chiropractor. That’s going to be hard. It would have been hard anyway, but with this shutdown it’s going to be even harder. It’s not unbearable yet, but the last thing I want to do is wreck my body further.

Another reason is that I was incredibly horny. Again, causality is not implied – if my body was feeling tension, that tension has to be released, and masturbation really does work for that. Unfortunately, those thoughts wiped away all of my dreams. Those thoughts, and others – as I’ve alluded to, I am on medical leave. I’m afraid, *terrified* that the surgery screwed up my ability to have orgasms as powerful as I had before. I’m hoping, *praying* that it’s temporary, a result of the muscles being slightly atrophied, or maybe just healing up from the trauma.

I’m so scared. Who do I talk to about this? Why does no one care about women?

Sex is an important part of almost every area of my life. I know that that can be said for just about everyone, but it’s even moreso for me, I do believe. If my sex life is damaged, then I really just want to die. I mean, I probably still won’t kill myself because I’m not one to throw things away even when they’re clearly more useless than I am, but sex is my primary reason for living.

Sex is my reason for living. This is so true that it deserves it’s own line.

Of course, the fear doesn’t help things. But I need to know what will. I’ve got to. I’ll download Joy of Sex again and really get serious about doing all of the exercises daily until I’ve gotten to the best outcome I can hope for, perhaps even better than I had previously.

My Father would be proud of this determination. He’s done it himself, several times. Maybe I’m good enough to do it too. As a matter of fact, I know I am.

My body is the epitome of excellent form and function. It serves me well, and I treat it well.

My daily affirmation, which I usually say before working out, taking my vitamins, both, or even more often.

I scrolled back just now and lost my rhythm, so the topic shifts. I’m struggling not to just go on with the things that I said I’d do here. I’m feeling (I have to stop adding in diminutive adjectives, that’s a good observation) motivated today. My slight hardship with my orgasm this morning (I never masturbate in the morning, which might be one factor in the problem) has given me a focus in fixing the problem, and the life that surrounds it. I’m feeling creative as well, there’s so much to do.

I notice that I always get creative right when there’s simply no time to capitalize on the feeling. Maybe it’s that fear that my friend was talking about. In spite of all of this (don’t hate me ad clicker, you’re nowhere near as virtuous as you think you are) I have plans this weekend. I keep wanting to stand up.

The boy thinks I’m going to be his this weekend. No, it doesn’t work like that. I have plans. There’s two ways to go from this point, and I can’t figure out if either one of them matters, or which one matters more. Maybe they’ll weave themselves back together as I go, if I can just get myself to keep going. I’m not sure why I’m writing so much about my writing process today… actually, it’s because I know that there’s more writing to do from here. I hope it’s a good writing day. I can’t ruin it by just going and fucking this random dude tonight.

My friend was talking about what it’s like to be a deep thinker (I will not reveal his actual occupation, nor my actual aspirations) and try to be in a relationship. When the Muse presents itself, you have to entertain her. She comes in whenever she feels like it, takes you body and soul, and leaves you thoroughly spent and exhausted. It’s up to you, not her, to be ready. If you let her go, she’ll move on to someone else and you’ll be forced to watch her make love to someone else, like a cuckolded man.

(this is a third way from the prior two, but I believe at the same time the common thread between them)

I’m going to get into writing tonight, I can’t let this get away. But what? I know what’s most important. My friend, who was over yesterday, said that I just keep my other job(s) so that I don’t do my serious work. He was absolutely fucking right and while it’s so embarrassing to let someone’s words change your life like that, I’m going to exercise the full depth of my humility and let that happen.

I was going to write about my sex drive, I was going to write about two boys, I was going to write about several things I don’t even want to try to remember now.

I better catch her while I can.