First day back at work after the hols. Knackered all morning but resisted the temptation to use drugs. Yes, some people would resort to tea, but not me. So I did it the hard way. A joyless experience for me and the clients.
By mid-afternoon I was sick of being virtuous and lacklustre. Several cups later, and just before the last clients went home, the magic tea kicked in. Yippee!
By evening, I was jabbering almost like a blissheid.
After the cellmate went to bed, I stayed up to party while the rest of the world slept. Out of sync as usual.
Story of my life - self denial all the way through, then a last-minute spurt to balance up. This means that when I'm old I'll consort with whores to make up for a virtuous life. Too late as usual. By that time I'll be what the Bavarians call tote hose - dead pants.
I blame the accursed middle class deferred gratification. Kipling. If you can keep your seed while others are losing theirs.
Albert? Interesting post! Consorting with whores when your tackle is malfunctioning reminds me of one of the side effects of doing tantrayana meditations. Virility! Bugger all use to me of course. Just thought I'd rub it in, but maybe that's not the appropriate expression. Still, there's nothing better than a good cup of tea. Dearie me! How much do those wee blue pills cost anyway? Hope this helps. Hotboy
ReplyDeleteHotters. Anyone would get stiffies, sitting around all day playing with their chakras.
ReplyDeleteMy colleagues in the English Department corrected my Kipling. If you can keep your seed while all around are losing theirs. No help at all.