“Good sex is like good bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand.”
― Mae West
Have you ever seen Malcolm in the middle? There is an episode in which Lois gets a few serendipity moments in which she starts seeing a masseur because she has fifteen minutes with nothing to do.
Even though I always thought such thing does exist, it just so happens that I witnessed one of those rare occasions. I am proud to announce that today I spent 38 minutes doing nothing. Nothing because I had nothing to do. I worked for eight and a half hour – which of course was very satisfying and awesome and the best thing that ever happened to me (I am not writing this just in case one of my co-workers happens to find the blog). Anyhow, I did a short 20 minutes workout – and I did not waste half of that time just scrolling through Instagram while lying on the floor; I went for a walk – for a whole hour, do not judge me to quickly here – and then I stood in the middle of my apartment staring in the abyss. Like an idiot with nothing to do.
My first thought was of course the fridge, but I am really trying to live healthier, so I got only a few slices of cucumber – a very, very, very satisfying snack.
My second thought was reading but since I read too much yesterday – yes, there is such a thing – I decided not to.
As the rain started falling down, I decided to lay down on my bed sheets. Now before I continue with the story, I must explain very quickly why I pointed out the sheets.
It occurred to me that different countries use different types of sheets and have therefore a unique way of making the bed. So even though I live in a country where they use thick heavy duvets that are too small for the respective beds – I do not know why, do not ask me; I come from one of those places where they stuff the blankets so far under the mattress so that no one can actually get into or out of the bed in under 30 minutes. And therefore no one with a half decent brain would ever undo the bed unless strictly necessary. You would think I would prefer the first technique but no: I like the feeling of being smothered to death in your sleep. It reminds me of my childhood, and I feel more at home.
Anyway 38 minutes I laid there ON the sheets doing nothing. Besides thinking. Because there is no way to stop me from thinking. Not for me anyway. I know, I know: you are probably thinking I don’t always think. I cannot possibly think during sex. But I do. A lot. Don’t you? The problem is always when you catch yourself thinking about something else while doing it. It is like being at school again and your teacher sees you distracted. You try really hard to concentrate but it only makes it worse.
The worst thing is when you start thinking about the sex you are having. From an outside perspective. Like if you were an alien and you would see two people doing it… you should not go down that road while exchanging slimy fluids with another in germ covered human. You will never come back from that one. You will end up having to fake an orgasm, wait until the other person is gone so you can finish up yourself. Which is more effective, and you can finally concentrate on your grocery list while scrubbing.
Aromatic deception 