In the shadows

I'm lurking tonight in a bottle.
For some reason the Bacardi looked inviting to me. Clear and refreshing.

There are so many reasons for me to drink tonight. I would spill every thought like a bad wine across stark white linen, but I won't.... because in my overly intoxicated state I think I would devulge a bit too much.

Humor me, it's not a pretty sight.

See, I have issues... For some weird reason I haven't had sex in like, a week. I at first blamed it on the cold... and then the sleep deprivation from having the cold. Now, I'm almost completely ready to play and husband is pre-occupied with work. I don't blame him, his job is stressful and needs to be the priority sometimes.
Most times I work around this, still making it my advantage... I'm selfish that way.

I remember when we first began dating; he was making his way through college and I was there to distract him from his homework. Wanting to spend more time with him I did what all good girlfriends do and twisted his arm into taking some online classes instead of live ones.
There he would sit, trying reluctantly to focus on the scrolling lecture careening across his browser window... with his dick full on in my mouth... It's a shame he failed that class.
That was biology ironically.

I cant' do this tonight, as it's a career thing and well... somebody's got to make the big bucks around here.

Second, god damnit my tits hurt. Fuck this hormonal burst of love I get every month. Now that I have eliminated one bad symptom, I think I will take on the fucking balloons of pain... bastard breasts. They need to be beaten, heavily. I think that it's important for all you guys to know that when your lady says "Ouch, they're sensitive"... they really fucking mean it.

Third, I am being mind-fucked. Pardon the pun. I can't even blame it on anybody... it's all, my fault.

Fourth, I ripped off the tip of my pointer finger on my right hand. Isn't really an interesting story to tell there... out of all the fingers on my hand, had to be that one. No jokes please.
Fucking hurts to type though... nuff written there.

I think I will slip into a bath, turn on some Otis, and finish my third cocktail.
Come on, you can join me.