Saturday, November 7, 2009

If You Scratch My Back...

You know what I miss the most about having a "significant other?" It's not that they can fix my toilet (dude, I can do that!!) It's not that they take out the garbage. Sure...cuddling is nice. And so is cooking for more than just me and Q. Companionship....meh, good, I guess. But what I really, really, really miss is having someone to scratch my back. Seriously, it sucks. I mean a door frame can do in a pinch, but it's just not the same. It doesn't give you goose bumps. It doesn't do it with feeling. Sometimes I can talk Q into it...if I pay him. The kid is good. I mean, he's only 5 and already he's figured out how to make a quick buck. The going rate is a quarter, which sounds like a pretty good deal except for the fact that he lasts maybe 30 seconds. That's fifty cents per minute. My math sucks, but isn't that like $30.00/hour? I don't even make that. Kinda makes me proud, though....my kid is smart....he's gonna go places (or rob people blind...)
Ya, so there's the back scratching. I really miss that. It's been three years since Q's father and I parted ways. While I have had a few flings here and there, I haven't found anyone to have a 'relationship' with. I guess I lied when I said I didn't miss the companionship. I really do. Ugh, I really, really miss the cuddling. And I hate taking out the garbage. If I really wanted to fix toilets, I think I would have been a plumber...they make more than $30.00 per hour and I'm pretty sure it's even more than that on weekends...
Honestly, I'm feeling like a blob. I know, it's a fairly nondescript word, isn't it? That's exactly how I'm feeling, like a completely nondescript asexual blob. Men used to check me out when I walked by, they used to whistle. One time I walked up to this guy who whistled at me and said, "I am not a dog, I am not an object. I do not answer to whistles or cat calls. You want my attention, you come up to me and talk to me. You understand?" And then I walked away, secretly loving the fact that he whistled at me. Ahhhh, reminiscing....
But what happened to that person? Where did she go? When did I turn into this? I haven't kissed a man in months, I haven't had sex in well...let's just say a loooooong time (my mom reads this...) and they're not exactly lining up either. Sigh. I guess I better get used to scratching my own back or resign myself to giving my son a small fortune.

1 comment:

  1. i'm not single, but i can relate to feeling like a blob. somehow, being ten weeks postpartum can do that to a person. i can relate to the 'not shaving your legs' issue... let's not kid ourselves... 10 weeks is WAY too early for any of **that**. besides, aren't beds just for sleeping??? count your blessings, love, you're getting some sleep... and heaven knows a new relationshop would wreak havoc on that. just saying. there *is* a bright side, especially when you have a good back scratcher, even if he is a little on the expensive side....

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