Routinely I find myself without the time to write about anything. It’s odd. My days don’t seem that packed full of business, but clearly they must be. I work all day and run errands after work and on weekends, leaving little time for fun - though I have been managing to squeeze it in.
It’s maddening how much there is to do as part of an international move. Sure, anyone with half a brain could have told me that, and even I knew it beforehand, but it’s an entirely separate thing to experience. It’s a difference in degree of intimacy, between knowing and feeling. Each night I go to bed early, not because I want to, but because I have no other choice. All day at work there are meetings and new things to learn and I feel like a college student attending lengthy lectures that cause a delicious drowsiness to dance through my mind. While the speakers speak I resist sleep and flirt with the notion of succumbing to it as my head begins to droop and my eyes start to roll up into my head. The sensation is borderline orgasmic - that it is forbidden makes it that much sweeter.
But you don’t want to hear the boring details of me responding to emails, or attending work meetings, or researching gas and electric providers, scouring the German equivalent of Craigslist looking for washing machines, painting my apartment, or assembling a cheap bedframe, you want the gory details of that sweet German punani - and any other European flavors I might have sampled. Yes, I know, I know. I get it. I just don’t know if I have it in me to relay that information right now. Life isn’t just about sex you know.
Who am I kidding? Yes it is.
“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.”
Leave it to a gay Irish poet for that one. I’m friends with a gay Irish poet living in Australia, actually. He’s also a dentist. He’s REALLY into oral. Legally I can’t relay the stories here of the things he’s told me he’s done to male patients while they were asleep, but I assure you it’s as kinky as you’d think. Turn on the gas and bang that ass! His stories are actually the reason I refuse to be put asleep during any medical procedure. I remained wide-awake for my colonoscopy and maintained hard, unwavering eye contact with the presiding physician, just to let him know I had my eye on him. I was a little confused when he performed the penis test on me, but he made it clear that he performs this part of the examination on everyone - that the penis is an organic sense organ which can detect rectal abnormalities better than even the most sophisticated robotics currently on market. Even when I told him it hurt he took care of it without putting me to sleep by injecting my asshole with few needles full of novocaine. After that, I didn’t even feel my anus fail the tear test.
What else? I'm a little strapped for cash because I haven't gotten a paycheck since mid December, so I've been spending a bit of time down by the docks for some extra income. It's not the nicest way to earn a few euros, but I really enjoy the human connection. I'm even certified to perform the penis test on people now. I charge extra for it, of course, but you'd be amazed by how many men and women are concerned with their colon health. I'm not only spreading cheeks, I'm spreading awareness. Everyone has a contribution to make, this happens to be mine.
Really though, I can't wait to get paid next week. This first paycheck is going to disappear almost immediately on rent and relocation costs. Turns out it cost almost one-thousand euros more than they estimated to ship my stuff overseas. It'll be nice to have all my stuff here with me. The walls are way too bare, and the rug will really tie the room together. All my camera gear will be coming along with it, too, so I'll be able to start taking some street photography as well as some high definition videos of my time down by the docks.