The longer you wait the harder it gets. Literally and figuratively. The expectations rise, as do the sexpectations.
It has been seven days since I produced any fresh new text. And three days since I have produced any fresh new sex. Both of these counts are significantly longer than average.
With each hour that passes I become more tense, and it becomes more difficult to produce anything. Somehow the quickie, usually a low barrier for entry feels insufficient. The post most be meaningful and humorous. The acrobatics in bed numerous. This is tiring. Even to type about. In both areas performance anxiety creeps in where it rarely rears its head.
The solution to both problems is the same.
Forget the intricate weave of insight and intercourse. Let go of lingerie and lyrics. Ignore the verse and vigor. Lower that bar down to the floor.
Step 1. Write a shitty blog post.
Step 2. Have some crummy sex.
It is likely that one of these activities will exceed my expectations. At this point all signs say it will be the sex.
Get write to it. And right on it.
Anna Rosenblum Palmer is a freelance writer based in Denver, CO. She writes about sex, parenting, cat pee, bi-polar disorder and the NFL; all things inextricably intertwined with her mental health. In her free time she teaches her boys creative swear words, seeks the last missing puzzle piece and
Original article and pictures take http://annarosenblumpalmer.com/sexpectations/ site