So I mentioned yesterday that Taylor’s been sick.  I’ve felt it creeping up on me, too, for a few days.  Up until last night I thought I was going to avoid getting truly sick — and I am still hopeful! — but around seven last night I got hit with a “ugh, stuffy, coughy, bed, now” sort of feeling.  I sipped some Theraflu, popped a Zicam and went to bed with the iPhone.  A few games of scrabble and bejeweled later and I was out like a light.

This morning?  Not feeling quite so bad. Which is why I’m still hopeful.

I really loathe being sick.

It’s bad enough my snootch is out of order, I don’t need a cold/flu on top of it, damn it!

And, man, let me tell you, having the snootch out of order is the suck.  It’s like it’s sucked everything sexual right out of me.

Can’t fuck, can’t get off, why should anything feel good, right?  Hmmph.

I think it’s a mind block, actually.

Like, yesterday, Taylor was gropin’ up and fondling my breasts and being all snuggly and lovey and I was just sort of…  meh.  It felt irritating.

Only it didn’t, really.  It was like my pussy was sending signals to my body…

Don’t get turned on, I’m out of commission!

I’m thinking it’s probably my brain’s way of ensuring I’m not stressed out and agitated by a need for something I can’t have, yanno?

But it made me feel bad for Taylor.

In fact, I just got some lemonade lube in the mail. I may have to break it out and give the poor guy an unasked for blow job to make up for my coldness.

Not that he expects it or was mad, not that he expected anything other than some closeness last night.  But I know it would hurt my feelings to have someone so uninterested and just cuz he’s the big, bad, dominant type doesn’t mean his feelings don’t get hurt.  And so I’d like to make up for that.

I have bad, bad TMJ so unasked for blowjobs don’t happen around here very often.  Surprising him with one would be very cool of me.  Loving, even.

Oops. Phone is ringing.  That must be my signal to be done.

xoxoxo