I had an offer last night for a deep erotic massage when I mentioned I was leaving a conversation to go have a hot, oily bath. The guy lives literally three minutes away from me. That's an incentive a girl just doesn't need some nights. Oh, my.

I considered it, my nerve endings tingling, a grin spreading across my face, and then I remember how exhausted I felt about 20 minutes before. This voice -- this storied "voice of reason" I've heard so many things about -- sprang into action.

"No... no, that sounds-- wonderful. Really. Wonderful. God, does it. Groan. But I have to pass... Regretfully, really. Tuesday's looking good, though?" Considering the guy was pretty eager at the time, I think he's all right with waiting, but I suspect I crushed his anticipation a tad. (But he's a guy, they get that.) He apparently had some forestry matters to attend to, something about "wood," and I went off for my bath.

In theory, my plans are merely postponed. But here I sit, now well-rested, but not nearly relaxed. But you know it wouldn't have been "just' a massage. There'd have been a kiss. A well-timed, well-delivered kiss. A slip of the hand. A little friction. Then, trouble. A long, drawn-out Trouble Making Session. It's probably just as well.

I'll go do some fucking yoga instead. (Boo, hiss) Say, Tuesday's the day after tomorrow. Nice. By then, I'll have all my housework finished and maybe something productive under my belt. A little playtime might be the right thing at the right time, for a change. Motivation. Love the motivation. ;)