I've decided I'm going to write something, anything, every morning this week, and hopefully that'll pull me out of my current writer's block, or at least put me back in the habit. I'm not promising anything fascinating.

I ran into my neighbor before the weekend while out getting an iced coffee and he asked me if I'd like to dog sit for him over the weekend. I asked him what that entailed. He said just walking her and making sure she had food and water. Being that this dog is a really adorable young cocker spaniel and I thought it would be fun, I agreed. It was amusing for the most part, except when I went to check on her one last time before her family was due home and found she'd had a field day with an economy size package of paper towels in the kitchen where she was staying. Imagine my disbelief and dismay upon opening up the kitchen door and finding 12 rolls of paper towels shredded all over the kitchen and her looking at me quite guiltily. Now I remember why I have a cat and not a dog.

Every year I make Christmas gifts for my friends and family, and each year it's something different. I usually start in September and it takes me up until the middle of December to get the gifts finished. Some past years I've done hand-knitted mittens, gorgeous angels (and I'm touched whenever I see one of my angels sitting atop a Christmas tree), homemade soaps, and jewelry. I haven't decided yet what the plan is this year. I should have a new project figured out some time this week so I can be on schedule.

I miss having a lover. I do have a friend I've seen every now and then over the past couple months, but he's a busy guy and I know I'm just an afterthought. We got together last week and had what basically amounted to an unsatisfying for me quickie. If physiology were opposite, and it was easier for women to get off then men, I wonder how the world would be different if most women could (and did) just climb on top of a man, bounce up and down for 2 minutes and have an orgasm, and then just dismount and say thanks, leaving the man lying there while she washes up in the bathroom?

Posted by: My Secret Life As A Former Prostitute at 9:43 AM

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