I had a sexually charged weekend, starting with a catch-up/shopping-trip/bitch-fest with my old friend Mini, one of the few real people who know I'm also ILB (although I'd forgotten she does!), which included a quick trip to CCK, followed by a dayandabit-long visit from the gorgeous Drinker, which was practically soaked with love, pre-prepared food, and passionate, hot, energetic sex which I'm sure must have caused us to shed a few pounds. Needless to say, when she left this morning there was the inevitable feeling that if neither of us had had to go to work we'd still be in bed. (Well, we would, probably sleeping, but you know what I mean.)
It's no surprise (knowing me and the person that was on my mind), is it, if I say that I was feeling the slightest bit turned on as I arrived into my training session this morning? Given the memories drifting through the ether, coupled with the fact that I was the first one there and spent a lot of that extra time in a very tired mood, wondering vaguely if I could just go back in time and reclaim the weekend, I found myself in a semi-state of arousal, but due to the lack of nearby girlfriend and a minuscule, yet lingering, sense of public decency (despite the recent news), I couldn't do anything about it.
Nor could I curl up in the foetal position and wait for it to go away, like I did when I was 11. It may have drawn a little too much attention. Due to the fact I was in a hospital at the time, that's a very bad idea.
The thing I actually wanted to do was stretch. I was so tired, my muscles were screaming at me to wake them up by throwing my hands to the sky (YMCA-style) and then stretching my legs or standing on one at a time (me-style). But as I was, by this point, rather in fact actually quite extremely hard oh it almost hurts, that would probably be the worst idea since Hitler's dad met Hitler's mum. Position yourself in the star position and stretch while you're erect, and you have a very large and obvious extra point to make. I don't feel like being labelled a pervert within the first two months of training - especially if it's undeserved!
With nothing else to do, I sat through the first half of the lecture, finding it hard to concentrate, despite it actually being quite interesting. If you're into human biology. Which I am, kind of. Marginally. On a good day.
At half-time, a break was called, and I leapt up (using up all my energy) and, before heading off to get a coffee so strong it could rival Obélix, finally had the whole-body stretch I'd been craving for so long. As the blood started pumping through my cardiovascular system, my muscles shouted for joy and I stretched so far and wide that I felt my skin could rip open and I'd burst out of my own body, growing another two feet.
I didn't, but at least I wasn't hard any more.
For the following two minutes, anyway.