Addendum To: When You Can't Plan Because You Have Too Much Time

Yeah, what I said in my last blog post?  Didn't do it.

So what I said last night I said without taking a nap at all, which is rare for a day where I didn't go out and in fact intended to never even open the front door (although I did because the package I ordered at Best Buy came sooner than it did, yesterday/Saturday, and I didn't want to leave the package out all day, so I stepped out and got it, and I went down to the end of the driveway and got the mail, too).  I was so entranced that I had three televisions, both tuned to a different Game and arranged in a way I totally love: There's the 55" on the floor, there's the 32" on a stand (both of which I got from my acquaintances), and then there's the TV we've had for a long time, don't know its diagonal length, on a stand.  They're all oriented in such a way that I can watch all three from a bar stool on the outside of the kitchen counter.

It was great: Past noon I had, from left to right, men's college basketball on Channel 4, usually men's lacrosse on Big Ten+ (through the app on my cellphone and through Apple TV, which I plugged into the 32" because I don't have a remote for it not, until yesterday, an antenna, even though the package I got from Best Buy yesterday was another antenna), and men's college basketball on Channel 9.  In the evening, from left to right, it was men's college hockey on Channel 9, men's volleyball on Big Ten+, and Liga MX on Channel 21.  I tell ya, all that was bliss.  I want to die this way.

So, while I was geeked out by my setup, I didn't sleep.  In the evening I remembered what I said and set my alarm clock for 7 because the EPL Matches today/Sunday I said I wanted to go to began at 8.  And that's when I got a teeny tired because I've been up all day.  And then I asked myself, "Do I really want to do this?"  And then I reflected on what I just did.  I have to wake up at 7.  Now, most EPL Matches that go off simultaneously do so Saturdays at 9 o'clock our time.  It's a tradition in England that most of that league's Games kick off on that day and at that time.  Setting my alarm clock at 8 on a Saturday is not a big deal to me.  I've done it before and I've looked forward to it.  But 7 o'clock is when I usually need to get up to go to work, and I don't want to get up that early on a weekend, even if it's for something fun.  I really, really think I should sleep in on a weekend and not wake up so early unless I have to.  And again, it may have been my nap-less body speaking to me about all this.

So I decided not to go.  Or, more precisely, c'est la vie.  I did conk off around 11 last night, after the Liga MX Game ended.  That is enough time whereby if I naturally wake up before 7, I would go.  If not, well, I'm glad my body got the rest it needed.  Subsequently, with soccer off the table, seeing The Warriors is back on.  So I guess I'm watching a movie I've watched before at a theater I've never been to instead, even though I blog posted yesterday that I didn't want to do that.

Got up just now and I looked at my phone: 8:22 a.m.  Early, but not early enough to see the EPL.  Unfortunately, through all this, I asked *****y last night to cum and give me an HJ in the early afternoon, just before the screening of the film.  It's going to be tight as it is, and strippers are often late, plus I don't know how, uh, quick I'll be since, even though I didn't sleep, I did touch myself all day yesterday, and at my advanced age, pudding out the day before means I won't pud out all that fast the next day.  In other words, there's a chance I will miss both soccer and the movie today.  And that would leave me with literally nothing else to do during the day.

Well, I do have my three-TV set-up.  Guess it could be worse. ...

When You Can't Plan Because You Have Too Much Time

So there are three things I want to do tomorrow/Sunday: Finally watch simultaneous EPL Matches at a soccer bar; watch The Warriors at a boutique cinema in South Minneapolis; and get wanked by *****y.  The problem: The EPL Matches end about three hours before the movie begins, and the bar and the boutique theater are about four miles apart.  I do not want to watch soccer, go back home, then go back in the same area of the Twin Cities to watch a film; that's too much.  And I thought of bringing my laptop and just do work somewhere in the area, but no libraries are open before noon in the Twin Cities and I really don't want to sit in a place I have never been to and veg for three hours.

Moreover, I had *****y slotted in the early evening, but she texted today saying she could cum back to the area sooner, so she can get me off sooner.  I asked her to cum in the early evening because I thought I would need to take a nap, but now that she could cum sooner, maybe I can power through and possibly nap later.  See, everything's up in the air because I can do everything, but I don't want to!

I have decided to watch soccer and not watch the movie.  Why?  Uh ... I don't know the next time The Warriors will be screened somewhere, but I've already seen the film, even though I want to see it again.  Also, I hear this cinema is really cool, but I have never been to it, and today I just feel like doing the familiar rather than the new.  Finally, I have been wanting to wake up early one weekend morning to watch soccer and I have had to delay it for months, first because of my football obligations (college and pro), later because an EPL side with a huge local supporters group will be watching one of those Games at a bar I want to go to, and I don't want to deal with a crowd.  Tomorrow finally works: It's two Matches, and the bar I go to isn't the bar any EPL team watches its Matches at.  I think it's time I do this, and I want to do this tomorrow.  And that means *****y can touch my dick way earlier in the day.

My Shrink Is Losing It

OK, I am still going to speak with my therapist -- and it's been a while, so I'll speak with him again soon -- but I have to admit that I haven't been happy with him lately.  I need to talk to someone about my day and my anxieties.  But, and you may have already realized this when I've blog posted about him before, when it comes to fixing my problems, or even providing insight into what I'm going through and how I'm feeling, he has not provided anything of worth in a while.  Hate to say it, but I haven't felt as though he's been helping me for, eesh, many, many months.

In fact, this previous session, which was maybe a few weeks ago, was stranger and more ... hate to use this word, but pointless than any other call or session I've had with him before.  I'll say this about myself: As boring as my life is now, I don't have too much to be angry about.  I guess my country being overtaken by dictators and white supremacists is something that is absolutely enraging me, but I didn't talk about that with him.  Instead, I brought up typical topics about work, about family, etc.  This was around the time my co-worker decided to retire, so I talked to him about how I was struggling at work without her.  My psychologist suggested that I go see her.  I don't think I even offered a thought that I would want to see her beyond work, but I told him that I thought it was inappropriate.  And then he asked, "Is she cute?"

The hell??  She cute??  I said nothing about her appearance.  I don't give a damn about her appearance.  I've never been attracted to her because that also is inappropriate, and besides, I'm at work, and I won't think of anyone at work attractive because I'm at work.  (OK, there were a couple women there that are very attractive, but I think they've left the company because I haven't seen either in months, but anyway ...)  I don't know why he asked that question.  I guess I have told him so much about my sexual exploits with strippers that he put my ex-co-worker in that box.

I need to say this: For the past couple years, he has said, more and more, that he thinks of our calls less as sessions and more like ... well, "calls," like between friends.  I want to be friendly, but really, I still think of him as my psychotherapist.  That's what I need him as, even if my life is relatively stable and happy.  I am getting the feeling that he needs to hear from me more than the other way around, and that too is not appropriate.  Moreover, I have gotten the feeling that he likes it when I talk about the times I get down with my stripper girlfriends.  In fact, that's the only reason, I think, he asked me if my ex-co-worker was cute.  He's an old guy, so I guess he is also bored, but -- come on, man, what's your deal?  And also, ew.

I didn't say any of that to him.  I don't remember exactly what I said, but I think I snapped a bit when he asked me whether she was cute -- maybe not, "That's not the point!" but "No.  No!"  And I'm still in dis belief that asked that question.  It has made me think about not speaking to him anymore, I won't lie.  Guess I will because ... well, I don't know if he's charging me money for these sessions.  I don't think my health insurance is paying for this.  So, as long as it's free, I'll talk to him ... for now.