The fog presses at my bedroom window. If I opened my window, it looks as if it would pour in. My main light is on. My radiator, too. And my fan heater, which exhumes heat right next to my computer chair. Outside, it is cold and dark. Fog and chills. Here, I am enclosed. Safe in a little oasis - a pool of light and heat.
If sexual desire is the "yin", today is the "yang". Yesterday, I was horny. Very, very horny. I was turned on, and this lasted for hours. I ran my errands, I did the jobsearching thing, I watched University Challenge, Only Connect and Miranda. But every time I had a spare moment, I felt the urge. A lull in activity? Turned on. Post-lunch break? Wanting it. Got up to stretch my legs? Third leg. Interesting analogies á go-go? Erection.
I just had the feeling. I couldn't get enough. I didn't take matters into my own hands for hours - because I'm not entirely sure I wanted to. Although I knew an orgasm would stop it, I quite liked the feeling-sexually-aroused thing. Besides, I wasn't going anywhere. I was staying at home because I had things to do at home. I did, in the end, masturbate, but it was the last thing in the day. Just before TD called me from Liverpool to say hi. Good timing, ILB!
Today is the antithesis of that day... although I've done basically the same things. Jobsearching (although this time I actually applied), lunch (watching a DVD of My Family in the absence of a decent sitcom on TV), errands. In the fog. Walking to the end of the road to book a haircut, claim a refund on some unused train tickets and grab some medication for my stomach. I thought, when I get home, I'll be turned on. It's bound to happen. This is me we're talking about.
But it didn't happen. I am drifting, but I am not horny. I don't feel the urge. It's very, very strange.
The fog outside my window has turned my garden into a beautiful shade of blue. I have never before seen anything look so calm.