On Dysfunctions and Wierdness...
So apparently, I have SADD. No, not Students Against Drunk Driving, or Seasonal Affective Disorder, Darlin'...I have Sexual Attention Deficit Disorder.
Blame it on a busy mind. I don't know. But I noticed during an interlude this weekend, that my thoughts were...shall we say...scattered. I mean, I was there, participating, but I wasn't really...there. Does that make any sense? I mean, and when I noticed that, I started trying to keep track of my thoughts, which just made the entire thing worse. My thoughts were bouncing around like bunny rabbits. And, 'not particularly interested in breeding right now' rabbits. I was trying, attempting to keep my mind focused. But I would no sooner look at something and think, "oooh, that's neato..." than my thoughts would immediately go to, "hey, speaking of jiggling round things, did you remember to put the jello in the fridge?" and then, "I wonder if we have any more lime jello? Probably not, I should check and get to the..HEY! PAY ATTENTION!" "okay..okay..paying attention...what is the cat doing?"
yeah...you get the idea.
And, when I notice this, I do my best not to start to snicker...because laughing is the kryptonite for my libido. Whilst I am laughing, I cannot keep blood flow to that certain part of the male body, to paraphrase a late night infomercial. Which makes me wonder...if I took Viagra and went to a comedy show, would my heart explode? I mean, from the lack of being able to divert enough blood to the laughing muscles? But...yeah.
So, I had this talk with the complication, and she told me that she could tell when I was getting distracted, and while, yes, it did make for longer sessions, it bothered her that there was really no such thing as a quickie with me, as I got distracted by refrigerator magnets. Which is true, I mean, they are the ones with words that you rearrange into phrases, and I see one, and I think, "horses taste like bottoms of buttermilk eyes on the sky." Really? What the hell stream of consciousness rant is that? yeah...it's a problem.
So, I mean...it's maybe not so much a dysfunction as it is just a function of me. I mean, when I'm horny and I take myself in hand, I have no problem finishing off quickly. But as I think back on my...dalliances, I've noticed that I am...distracted. Plus, I just like how it feels. I've often thought, orgasms are cheap. I can have one in five minutes in the shower by myself. But the joy of the skin on skin, the feel of being with someone like that...it's not...to be just...squandered. Yeah. But then, I think as well, that doesn't explain my mind wandering. It really does, and...while I don't think it's that much of a problem, if I tried to explain it to someone who wasn't more of a friend than...I mean...how offended would a person be if told that hey, while I'm inside of you, I'm thinking of how to best level up my Torchic? Yeah, not a good conversation. Maybe I'm just wierd. Ah well.
In the homeowner front, I have started to tear up the kitchen floor. A linoleum cutting knife in my hands can be a dangerous tool indeed. The fridge was moved, and then it had been shoved back, and ended up tearing the flooring and wrinkling it. So I wrestled it back out, took off the torn water line (aha! So, this is why we have that leak!) and then yelled for Hil to turn off the water downstairs as I tried to keep the line kinked...yeah. I should work on my process steps...heh. But, when I pulled out the fridge, I decided that trying to smooth the flooring out would be bad, so I got out the knife and cut the bad portion off. And that's when the fiasco started...
So...chores for today? Get linoleum, install new flooring, put appliances back where they go. And concentrate on what I'm doing. Maybe that's the overall lesson for the day. Concentrate on the task on hand...hehe.
Oh, and Watchmen? I really did like the movie. I really did, but Dr. Manhattan and his giant glowing blue schlong of power? Really? PANTS! I mean...50 foot tall blue glowing man without pants? Really? REALLY??