Playing With Myself---But Not In A Naughty Way

I'm starting to get that tingle again. Not in any sexual way, though I suppose if some Freudian were analyzing me they'd think it was exactly in that sort of way.

Well. Okay. Maybe it is 'exactly that sort of way' too.

Here's what is happening: I'm emerging.

It's that simple. Something is changing in me and I feel like I'm just starting to wake up again. I don't want to go into too many details here, but I've recently moved into an apartment. It's beautiful. It's a wee bit vintage and a whole lot girly and it's mine. The kids love it too. Beyond that, something else is happening. I want to write again. I went for a run this morning, on my own, a cool morning where my arms felt numb. For the first time in a long while, new characters were introducing themselves. I was a bit annoyed because I was trying to run and it's very hard to focus on breathing when your mind wants to focus on writing...but I managed.

So. Something is changing, stirring, tingling....starting. And I feel like I'm starting to play again. To have a little bit of joy all to myself. There is one woman I met this morning (a new character) that I'm excited to get to know. Her story is a lot like mine right now, with a few notable differences: she's a lot better talking on the phone and she doesn't drool when she's nervous. Hell. Wait a minute. Now that I say that, I think she probably does drool when she's nervous. Well, maybe she's a blonde instead of whatever hair color I have. I don't know yet. 

You may meet her soon. Apparently, she wants to be in a book called "Playing with Myself: A Femoir". 'Femoir' being either fiction/memoir or a memoir for the ladies. We'll see. And if she doesn't come out to play, I'm okay with that too. Because, yes, I'm having a whole lot of fun playing with myself right now.

You can take that to mean anything you like. 

Cheers.