Getting the Slut Out

I walked outside, circling the veranda the other day with a close co-worker two steps behind. I had been, among other things, bitching about my crazed hormones and to be frank- my utter and complete horniness I inevitably experience the week after my enemy-of-the-month rears its ugly head. I always admired those cliché PMS t-shirts stating, “I usually can shut the bitch up with chocolate” but unfortunately in this case there seems to be no post-menstrual quote, saying or quick-fix for my problem.

“It’s simple Stac, really. You just haven’t gotten all the slut out,” Sam replied to my endless chatter. Having worked together at two different jobs among the last eight years or so, she knew me way too well.

“So it’s not just inching closer to 30, ya think?” I squinted at her through the bright midday sun. She just shook her head.

“That’s part of it, but frankly had you ever had a real college experience, you probably wouldn’t be going through this as intensely as you are. I’m sure as hell not.” She wagged her two-karat-wrapped diamond finger at me as proof.

“Yeah, but you’re birth control is a higher dosage of estrogen than mine,” I laughed at her as she flicked me off.

As usual, she was probably close to being on target. Each month the week following, I would swing into horny mode. You’d think this would otherwise be a great situation with a perfectly sexy and fun boyfriend showing up at my apartment each evening, but the last several months the craze had actually been focused on someone else. And poor Sam had to be the one to hear about it, as she was among the very few I could trust with the secret I otherwise would never actually act on.

The issue has been, since around April of this past year, that “someone else” is more or less an executive at my company. A very deliciously gorgeous, very MARRIED executive who could technically be categorized as a boss in many senses. Oddly enough, I only feel this way during this one week however. The other few weeks of the month I simply enjoy this person’s fun sense of humor, melting smile and light office chatter on the infrequent times I actually see him wander into my area of the office (I'm not kidding when I say there are many reasons to put the effort into getting beautified in the mornings!) Nevertheless, I cannot fathom for the life of me why I keep going through this exact same monthly cycle and WHY ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH I cannot revert this focus onto my boyfriend (side note: Every other week is on him. Really. It’s strange.)

Sam thinks, as she’s pointed out every month for the last eight or so odd months, that I didn’t sleep around enough in college and thus she’s concluded that there’s just a certain amount of slutty sleeping aroundness that I have to go through in order to end up at the place where I want to settle down with one person. Hmmm… it’s a thought to consider but the simple fact that I’m pushing closer to 30 everyday just seems to click in my head as a valid reason as well, if not the most prominent.

So as my odd week is (hopefully) coming to an end and I find myself able to actually concentrate on other things- like just how drunk I really want to get tonight for NYE at this house party I’m going to- I’m hoping I’ll somehow find a way out of the insane daydreams of a man I’ll never actually go after, in some life I’ll never actually have. I’d much rather be enjoying my own existing reality anyway.


Lack of Significant… Significance

Last week I had one of those days. You know, the emotional, almost-that-time-of-the-month days where my hormones thought they had free reign to bounce off the walls of my inner being and annoy the shit out of me. They hide dormant for three and half weeks then all of a sudden, WE’RE FREE! LET’S TORMENT HER BEYOND BELIEF! SHE’S NOT REALLY THAT BUSY WITH FINALS, SCHOOL PROJECTS, FINANCIAL AID APPLICATIONS, HER FULL-TIME JOB AND CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!!! Fuckers.

This time however those emotions got to me because, as much as I hate to admit this, there was some validity to their point. And that point was the lack of significance in my job. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, believe in my company and even enjoy working for my bosses and with my co-workers. And I have sole responsibility to handle and manage a couple major roles in the company. However, on a day-to-day basis I just don’t feel like I have enough to do and thus feel like I don’t really have a significant impact. So I spent the bulk of one of my days last week dazed off and lost in my emotions over this. 

There are some other points to consider within these emotions before giving them any reign to actually be right however. For one, my last job that I left a year ago worked me to death. I also enjoyed it, mainly because of the very obvious significant responsibilities I had (evidenced by the massive dependence most of the executives had on me to simply show up on a daily basis). Buuuuttt I could easily state that I was overworked. Again, evidence provided by the fact that not one but three people are now doing what I alone used to do for that company and any time I’d go on vacation when I did work there, I had four people trained to back me up, a 40-page procedure manual typed up and bound and I STILL got at least two phone calls a day from my back-ups asking questions. 

So did I just get use to being so overworked for years that I now feel a severe lack of importance at my current job simply because I’m now NOT overworked? Or is there a valid point to saying I don’t have enough to do when I can get away with sitting on the internet for a couple hours a day organizing my to-do list, schedule, and homework? I suppose it’s really all a matter of perspectives really. But I had to give it up to my emotions driving a feeling of unimportance and insignificance at work…. They may be onto something. And only time will really tell. 


Flirting With Disaster

So there’s this guy at work. A slightly older guy, but HOT nonetheless. He has this shaggy 70’s look to him that is just delicious (despite the fact that I have never been attracted to anyone that looks like the 70’s spewed them out so far they landed three decades later wondering what the hell). He doesn’t actually work at my company, but rather another company in the building. And naturally I see him when I go out for a smoke break; he doesn’t actually smoke but I tend to find him out there relaxing and getting away from the desk for awhile, as we all have opted to do on occasion (read: hourly).

 Yesterday I went outside as I usually find myself doing on the hour and he wasn’t too far behind. He sprawled out on a bench and started in on small talk. Somehow though, the conversation sort of went astray and I’m still twisting it around in my head trying to figure out how. Without going into the actual dialogue, it went something like this:

Me: comment on the weather. Him: comment back about it being stormy (although it wasn’t) and a mumbled comment about stormy sex. (Yeah, eh?) Me: Said hi to someone walking in, turned back and made a follow up comment about the beautiful weather. Him: Did you say you wanted to get a drink? Me: Um, no (repeat weather comment) but if you’re making drinks one sure sounds good right about now.

That was pretty much it. Awkward. Here’s the deal with this little situation… I have a boyfriend, one with whom I happen to adore. Granted, our sex life has kinda died off a little bit (nothing that can’t be worked on and given my crazy schedule lately it’s not too surprising). I LOVE having some quality eye candy to steal glances at throughout my day, particularly since it’s slightly more motivating to get my ass up and actually do my hair and makeup in the mornings (that fact has not changed since high school!) but I don’t want to deal with anything beyond that. Worst-case scenario, light harmless flirting. After all, there’s nothing wrong with looking and I know damn well my boyfriend does it (so why can’t I? Fair’s fair biotch!) But this was flirting with disaster, if in fact I read into it correctly.

So far today, I haven’t had any interactions with sudo-70’s hottie from work. However, the boundaries have been drawn and I think I’ll need be cautious. Apparently even when discussing the weather.