So this weekend, we had a date night. We went out for dinner and then some dancing. The funny thing about date night as adults with a baby, we had to have sex beforehand. Cause we knew we'd be out late, so when the babysitter sets the time limit at 1:30 a.m., that could not be avoided. And so beforehand after dropping Lee off at our neighbor's house at about seven (they love taking him, but we don't ask but once every two months or so, they're older and have kids out of the house so I think they think it's fun) we headed back to "get dressed." The wife will sometimes say stuff like that laying the "we're going to go fuck" intimation on a little thick. I prefer just bald face lying.
But now I'm on new meds, and these have side effects that were heretofore unknown, cause we haven't been fucking as much cause of the depression. And the wife was horny. I could take care of some of that, but when it came to my turn, as it were, a lot of flopping around. But, to give this story a half-happy ending, with patience you can get off without getting fully erect. Who knew? Today I got the next set of meds to try. Fortunately I was at least able to make jokes about it, though some, admittedly, hit close to home. "Great, another thing to get depressed about." Depression is supposedly clinical. I don't know if I believe it.But these last meds, other than working like Salt peter, did repress some of these nasty thoughts I've been having. And... man, I was sleeping fucking great. But I like having boners, so out they go. So sorry. Ive got to detox these last ones, and start the new ones this weekend. AWESOME.
The dancing was fun though, once I got my groove back. As a couple Aili and I have this weird mixture of feelings. We still want to do things like this because we feel it is appropriate. And yet we have a kid. It's weird being out. I was able to watch a dozen interactions. I kept my wife abreast of what I was tracking, when we weren't having drinks (me water, it was her night to cut loose, as it were, though I did have one beer, and a sip of her apple martini). I had Salmon. I'm trying to eat more fish. Ive been exercising more and trying to eat better. But around ten we hit the dance floor,and stuff slowly started to happen. You've got the drunk boys, the girls with their purses who stand-dance in the middle of the floor (fuck you, by the way), the hipster kids who want to breakdance, the way too inebriated, the group of friends out celebrating something - flashing their flash cameras, and the girls getting drunk and looking to get schtupped....
Which led to this conversation on the drive home:
- You saw that she went for the black guy.
- I know! Is that racist?
- On whose part?
- Me saying "I know!" Well, I saw one guy who hit on her and missed, and another guy she was kinda making eyes at and bumping into.
- She wanted to fuck him.
- You think?
- A girl doesn't accidentally bump into a guy four or five times, no matter how drunk. She was also doing the "I'm dancing like a lesb with my other straight femme friend" thing.
- Aili, tell me you never did that.
- Once or twice. When I was younger.
- Look, I hate fashionable lesbianism. I just do. Just as I hate Girls Gone Wild. And, is it Brandon Davis? I hate him.
- You would totally have a three-way with me and a hot chick.
- That's dif... No. Actually, no. I love you too much.
- Why, would you?
- I mean I guess you could make it work, it might be fun, or whatever. But no interest.
- Well, I suggest we never talk about this again.
- Fair enough.
- Besides, it's not like my...
- Look, Damon, please, stop joking about it.
- I'm sorry, I'm just trying to deal with the fact that my junk isn't working properly.
- If its me...
- No, the doc said this might be a side effect, so, he was right. Fuck me in a week, I swear, I'll be raring to go.
And on and on. Some real pathos up in this bitch. Hopefully by Saturday, my junk will be back in working order, and I won't worry about all the things that I've been stressing on lately.