If your partner wants to have sex, and you’re not into it, for whatever reason, you might disappoint them, but that’s it. If your partner and your sometimes fuck buddy want to have a threesome, and you’re not into it, now you’re disappointing two people. Thus the dilemma in which I currently find myself, and why I agreed to have said threesome tonight, though I really don’t want to.

Now I’m suffering from the anxiety and overall sense of panic I have come to expect from myself in such situations. So I’m miserable, all because I don’t know how to say “no” to anyone except myself, and my whole week got progressively more fucked as it went on.

First of all, most of my plans this week have been blown to hell. Sunday, I was informed, anonymously, that I’m doing a shitty job at that particular gig. Monday, a friend was supposed to pick me up from work for drinks, but spaced on me, leaving me to take the bus home. Tuesday I got electrocuted via the microphone at rehearsal. Wednesday I had to remove a fucking bat from the house. Thursday the threesome was pushed back because of a lingering early period. Friday, same deal. Saturday, three different people bailed on us, leaving us drifting all day. And today, all I wanted to do was sit down, eat some food, and watch the fucking Super Bowl, but that plan’s moved, too. Yes, I’m complaining that I have to have sex. But you’re missing the point:  I need some sort of predictability this week, or I’m going to have a fucking heart attack.

That’s really all I have to say. Not really feeling the whole “compelling prose” thing today. Just me bitching. Sorry.