Well, I Guess That Answers My Question...
Ah. 5:23 in the morning and I'm blogging because I know further sleep will not be coming for now. This isn't my usual insomnia, mind you. Part of it is to be expected, and part of it... no.
Yesterday was a day of crazy. Just... crazy. It's hard to put it into words, exactly. Random bizarre interactions with people, kindergarteners melting down in music class (ah, the first week of school), by the end of the day I was ready for a glass of wine. A very big glass of wine. So after going to the gym, I stopped at the liquor store (where I was carded) and bought a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
Prior to this, I'd texted P letting him know I'd had a zany day, and that if he later received weird or inappropriate texts from me, he should just tell me to step away from the wine. His answer was that he had a "very high threshold for inappropriate." Given my mood, it was: challenge accepted.
Now here is where I digress for a moment. See, I was raised to be a "good girl." My daddy is a fairly conservative Baptist minister -- right now he's really into Puritan theology. Although not Biblically explicitly expressed, sex outside of marriage -- and "sex" being a very broad term -- was a big no-no. Of course, I crossed that bridge years ago, along with the tattoos and piercings. Yet I still have retained some of my good girl ways. When I was doing my Masters degree, the "Purity Test" was very popular. My score landed me somewhere in the middle; not a prude, but not a worldly woman.
I may have lost a few more points last night.
Oh, don't be getting all het up right now. I spent last night alone in my own bed. To the chagrin of a certain Mr. P.
After glass number 2, and not having gotten really any replies to previous texts, I let him know that this text would be my last for the evening. I didn't want to %&$^ up any chances I might have with him, and I'd talk to him later. I also made it clear that it was kind of sad that two glasses of wine had knocked me on my ass. Why is that important? Because apparently on Match, listing your own alcohol consumption as "social drinker" is akin to "alcoholic," something I learned from P.
I am listed as a "social drinker." Oh boy.
Well, after sending that text, I got a reply. "Wait! Where's the sexting?!?"
Ooooohhhhh boy.
Remember how I said I always aim to please? Yep. Since this isn't an "adult" blog or my attempt at "Fifty Shades of Grey," you will be getting no details. Or even vague hints. However, in keeping with the general theme of the posts of the last 2 weeks, you will get an insight into my newest angst-ridden dilemma. Lucky you!
There's a saying, an adage I suppose, that goes "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" That's a little bit where I am. Yes, I spent last night alone in my own bed. By my own choice and insistence. One thing I know about myself is that I am at the point where sex has to be within a monogamous relationship. Casual sex? Been there, done that, and I know how screwed up it left me in the head.
Yet that didn't make last night any easier. The attraction I feel for P is unlike what I've felt for any other guy -- sorry if any of my exes are reading this blog. Apparently, it's clear he feels similarly. Last night, all I would've had to do was ask for his address (or give him mine) and it would've been game, set, match. Touchdown! Goal! But I stuck to my morals, if you will. No relationship, no nookie. The question is, though, have I opened a Pandora's Box? I don't think so, but we all know what an expert I am in relationships. (Ha!!) I think I'm still at a point where I can say how attracted I am to him, but ...
And my train of thought just derailed because guess who else is not sleeping and is texting. Oh boy.
Yesterday was a day of crazy. Just... crazy. It's hard to put it into words, exactly. Random bizarre interactions with people, kindergarteners melting down in music class (ah, the first week of school), by the end of the day I was ready for a glass of wine. A very big glass of wine. So after going to the gym, I stopped at the liquor store (where I was carded) and bought a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.
Prior to this, I'd texted P letting him know I'd had a zany day, and that if he later received weird or inappropriate texts from me, he should just tell me to step away from the wine. His answer was that he had a "very high threshold for inappropriate." Given my mood, it was: challenge accepted.
Now here is where I digress for a moment. See, I was raised to be a "good girl." My daddy is a fairly conservative Baptist minister -- right now he's really into Puritan theology. Although not Biblically explicitly expressed, sex outside of marriage -- and "sex" being a very broad term -- was a big no-no. Of course, I crossed that bridge years ago, along with the tattoos and piercings. Yet I still have retained some of my good girl ways. When I was doing my Masters degree, the "Purity Test" was very popular. My score landed me somewhere in the middle; not a prude, but not a worldly woman.
I may have lost a few more points last night.
Oh, don't be getting all het up right now. I spent last night alone in my own bed. To the chagrin of a certain Mr. P.
After glass number 2, and not having gotten really any replies to previous texts, I let him know that this text would be my last for the evening. I didn't want to %&$^ up any chances I might have with him, and I'd talk to him later. I also made it clear that it was kind of sad that two glasses of wine had knocked me on my ass. Why is that important? Because apparently on Match, listing your own alcohol consumption as "social drinker" is akin to "alcoholic," something I learned from P.
I am listed as a "social drinker." Oh boy.
Well, after sending that text, I got a reply. "Wait! Where's the sexting?!?"
Ooooohhhhh boy.
Remember how I said I always aim to please? Yep. Since this isn't an "adult" blog or my attempt at "Fifty Shades of Grey," you will be getting no details. Or even vague hints. However, in keeping with the general theme of the posts of the last 2 weeks, you will get an insight into my newest angst-ridden dilemma. Lucky you!
There's a saying, an adage I suppose, that goes "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" That's a little bit where I am. Yes, I spent last night alone in my own bed. By my own choice and insistence. One thing I know about myself is that I am at the point where sex has to be within a monogamous relationship. Casual sex? Been there, done that, and I know how screwed up it left me in the head.
Yet that didn't make last night any easier. The attraction I feel for P is unlike what I've felt for any other guy -- sorry if any of my exes are reading this blog. Apparently, it's clear he feels similarly. Last night, all I would've had to do was ask for his address (or give him mine) and it would've been game, set, match. Touchdown! Goal! But I stuck to my morals, if you will. No relationship, no nookie. The question is, though, have I opened a Pandora's Box? I don't think so, but we all know what an expert I am in relationships. (Ha!!) I think I'm still at a point where I can say how attracted I am to him, but ...
And my train of thought just derailed because guess who else is not sleeping and is texting. Oh boy.
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