Actually, it was a client who told me that I was "wasting my time in real estate and should write a book" instead. Her words, while complimenting me on the good stories that I have, read like a bad horoscopes. Little does she know that work is quiet and that always makes me very edgy. And it's precisely at times like this when an unexpected client calls and sets my work world on its ear and then I get swamped and I'm happy.
But now, my friend, I am not happy. I have too much time on my hands; too much frustration; too much static. So, it's over a year later since my last blog post and not much has changed. The political consultant who bored me so and I are still fucking each other from time to time and I realize this weekend that I don't even think we like each other. I mean, I would never go out of my way for him or do anything for him and I wondered what makes our arrangement different from prostitution. I guess that there is no exchange of money, which makes our arrangement legal--and legal is good. I think we're vaguely attracted to each other, which is another plus; I mean, I did have a crush on him a decade ago. And, whereas most people think that prostitutes don't enjoy themselves--which they may not--both he and I are getting a benefit here and not really one of us is being "used." Or rather, we're both being "used" and we really don't care. There is also the broker who I sometimes have sex with, but sleeping with him is like breaking your diet to eat bad chocolate cake--way better in theory than in practice and then you've wasted the calories and are totally NOT satisfied.
Suffice it to say, in the boy department, things remain the same. Though, thankfully, according to my psychic friends, they are soon to change and I will meet and be with someone that I love having sex with--because I will love him. It's exciting but strange to think about. My shell has gotten so hard after years of being single.
Meanwhile, every bit of my apartment is covered with dust because I'm doing big renovations which are now, officially, driving me crazy. I cried this morning when the workers came and at this point, I think that they should just move in and work 20 hours of the day and then take a little nap and get back to it. Because it's me, another big problem that I noticed is that sex is more challenging. As much as I like the idea of being caught, like anyone else, I don't like having sex in the living room with all the windows open and I don't like not being able to be loud because I'm basically having sex just a few feet away from the front door. It was so cute when I was 23 and now...not so much.
Wow. I'm not very interesting anymore. And I'm not very different--but it does feel good to be back.
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