So I'll admit it even though some of you bitches are the same and don't: I have a wandering eye. I am one of those women that other women whisper about, but secretly want to be. There is not and never has been an ounce of shame in my game. I have been a player and done it better than any man ever has, making no apologies for being the fairer sex while doing it.
Living on the edge of wanting something else even when everything is damn near close to perfect, or not, helps me cope with said perpetual wonder/wanderlust. Until I bust. Post kiddo, seems the bust could and would never happen again. Naturally there is some relief in that. No one wants to be a middle-aged player. Not cute! (Unless you are J-Lo or Elizabeth Taylor, I guess?)
However, I really like seeing cute coffee guy. Allow me to indulge myself if no one else in a long overly complex explanation.
Once you have children I am afraid all focus on your vagina and measures of satisfaction shift from the ill na na to concern for you child, especially while one is nursing. I am convinced that "extended" breastfeeding makes this particular shift even more severe. I say this not just based on experience, but also on science. Low sex drive and bf'ing are partners in non-crime for a reason. The body doesn't want to support a growing life while simultaneously feeding one. Further, many women feel all touched out after being tugged on regularly by a sweet sweet squishy squish. And while I didn't have too horrible of a birth experience, albeit long, there is still some element of you did this to me when I look at her dad. The "this" isn't fat or stretch marks, thank you genes. It's more emotional than that. THIS is everything: World upside down, tongue twisted with syllables that can't begin to describe the universal shift in love and consciousness and devotion. Plus, we are exhausted and not always kind to one another. We have no family near, barely have any anyway and have no babysitter. I will leave that at that.
Truth be told, I also had a really hard time mourning the loss of my individuality never to be recovered it feels. And I loved my individual status! Maybe to an often selfish fault...
But oh yeah, I hate sex now and am afraid I always will even though I know I won't. Uh, I hope I won't.
Back to CCG. Some days I work from a coffee shop. I do this because we live so remote that I actually don't have high speed interwebs and my paid life consists of really boring IT application project management. In fact, I could hear YOU starting to snore as I typed it. On the days I am remote and the satellite is misbehaving or my family is or some combination of the two, I come down here to work in a more relaxed state. The first day I started doing this, I was wearing my now infamous yellow happy face t-shirt because I was in a foul mood. This shirt is a pick me up, or at least a disguise.
CCG asked me about my shirt, I thought because I was scowling. But really I have figured out: the strategically placed eyes on it. Either way, he tossed me a vegan, gluten free zucchini bread, no charge and now does every time I come in! At least he was making sure he didn't poison me and, bonus, now I only pay for my drink!!
From that day on, despite his questionably gay voice he has made an effort to make me feel like a girl again, totally without knowing the favor he is doing for me. And, as described above, I completely forgot that could happen. He even feigns interest in my work and waxes coquettish that he could never understand such complicated things. My heart goes pitter patter; I've always enjoyed a tinge of the vapid with batting eyelashes. Seriously, I have interesting problems that many people fix with a gender change.
Anyway. He is not here today and I had to pay for my pastry. All "first world problem memes" aside, I really wish he was. My current life lacks kindness, very ironically, and I need a dose...however small. A dose of feeling pretty for a couple of hours because that is lacking too would be good. Bugger. Maybe next week?
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