Still haven’t made that fucking phone call.

Really wanted to have gotten it done by now, but fate (with a possible assist by subconscious self sabotage) stepped in and I am have a whopper of a sleepy day.

In that I have spent most of today asleep, barely managing to stay awake long enough to eat before returning to the dark waters from which I arose like Godzilla at the end of the movie and going the fuck back to sleep.

Not because I want to.

Because I have to. Sigh.

I might make it to the phone call anyhow. I assume the hotline is 24/7 and it’s only 3:45 pm so I have plenty of hours left in the day to do it.

And now that I am eating and imbibing precious, life-giving Diet Coke, I am feeling somewhat closer to sentience than I have all day.

So there’s hope for me yet.

But right now I still feel very mentally fried. And crispy on both sides. It’s hard to stay focused on the screen and I am as dizzy and disoriented as usual. My sinuses are full so I have a head full of a fun goo that sloshes around when I move my head, and I have a very slight tremor going on throughout my entire body.

And when I move, it kind of feels like I am underwater. Like I can almost feel the water flowing over my skin and resisting my motion.

And I can’t even swim.

So today’s been a matter of doggedly swimming against the tide.

Even just getting my pills together to take with lunch feels like I am trying to solve the puzzle box from the Hellraiser movies.

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I still feel a strong resistance to making that stupid call to the Dexcom hotline.

And I keep asking myself, “Whyyyyyyyyy??”. What’s the big frigging deal? What do I think is going to happen? What turned this into such an object of dread? \

All I have to do is call up and explain what happened. Then listen to what they say. I am hoping it’s a known problem and they just send me a new box of sensors.

And hopefully, THOSE will work. If not, I will have to assume it’s the transmitter and get a new goddamned one of THOSE.

Damn I miss the previous system, the OneTouch Libre.

Not gonna make it to 500. I will be back soon.

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I live again.

Hopefully I am through the worst of it. I feel marginally better than I did earlier.

A bit more alert, a bit more awake, a bit more alive.

A bit more horny, for some reason. Guess I am waking up all over.

Increasingly of the opinion that if I am going to get my life moving so I can finish growing up already, something in me has to die.

Something deep and vital and very, very broken.

And I am fine with that. Like I have said many times before, there is nothing in me that is more important than my happiness.

I will burn my very soul to cinders and ash if that is what it takes to be free.

I will drown myself in my own icy cold waters if that’s what it takes to be free.

I will bury myself alive and suffocate if that’s what it takes to be free.

I will even do scary things I don’t want to do that will hurt and that involve confronting my deepest fears if that is what it takes to be free.

Anything to finally escape these deadly doldrums and reach the open sea.

More after the break,.

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 888-738-3646.

That is the number for tech support for my Dexcom G6 finger poke free continuous glucometer system. It’s the number I need to call in order to tell them about the three sensors in a row that failed the exact same way at the exact same point in the two hour “warming up” part of starting a new sensor.

It’s the step I need to take in order to get back on track with my diabetes control. I had finally gotten it down into the healthy range when the previous sensor shut down and I am eager to get it under control again.

And it’s just a simple phone call, right? Just a few minutes talking to a total stranger and admitting to having a problem which might turn out to be all my own stupid fault

The sensors failed on Wednesday and it’s now Monday and I know I have to do it soon because I can feel the will to do so slipping away and it would be ever so easy to just let go and give in and let myself “forget” to do it and the next thing you know it’s six months or a year of no glucose control later and I have gotten much sicker and I am disingenuously claiming to have just “forgot”.

Which I did. Technically. But I could have held on to it harder instead of just deciding not to deal with it because it’s too hard and let it go slip sliding away into the depths of my mind to rest there with all the other things I should be doing, but don’t.

So with all that is at stake, it should be easy to just do it, right? It’s a no-brainer.

But no. It is hard to make myself do something when I have been “not doing it” for a little while. One of my all too easily invoked aversions has formed and the longer it remains, the harder it gets to overcome.

I need to do it. I want to do it. I have every reason to do it.

But I can’t make myself do it.

Or at least I haven’t yet.

I might have to work around it instead. Call the pharmacy and see if I can get a new box of sensors in the hope that the previous box of them failed because it was a bad batch.

Either way, I have to make a phone call.

But at least my pharmacist isn’t a total stranger who might have a very stressful to me accent that makes it hard to understand them.

Either way, I will get it done soon. Writing about it has helped me work through the emotions and I feel better about the whole thing now.

Maybe the key to overcoming these random aversions is talking them out. Pop the mental cramp by working the subject despite the pain and resistance.

Honestly, all paths out of my darkness involve a hell of a lot of pain.

But fuck it. I was born to suffer.

Might as well make that work in my favour for a change,.

More after the block.

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Haven’t done it yet. Tomorrow for sure, no excuses, gotta get it done.

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What the hell, more porn

And a few other bits n’ pieces, probably.

But first, a sexy bunny from out pal Chunie.

Or possibly a jackalope? Point is, hawt.

My god Chunie is amazing. Such extraordinary technical skill put to such horny use.

I feel both humbled and grateful. Truly, he is a blessing unto us all.

Amen and pass the Jergens.

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Then there’s this happy couple :

I choose to believe that these two just finished a damn good buttfuck and are cuddling and nuzzling as they bask in the warmth of the afterglow.

This is what love looks like to me. Cuddles, and buttsex.

It’s the best of both worlds.

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LOL. When the SPF^[1] of commercially available sunblocks started going up way back in the days of the ozone layer crisis, I found myself pondering the theoretical limits.

Like, what’s the SPF of a coat of paint? Or a brick wall? How goes skin color factor in? Does a pasty white dude like me need a higher SPF than James Earl Jones when he’s not playing the recently unmasked Darth Vader? And what about cats? What is the SPF of cat fur?

There has to be some upper limit past which literally no sunlight or UV can pass.

And it probably is made by Sherman Williams and comes in a wide variety of shades to match your personal style both inside and outdoors.

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I would REALLY love to make something like this.

Sadly, the idea has been done to death and is quite ancient by now.

But I don’t care. It seems like such a great way to create a ton of genuine content with just a bunch of friends and a camera and your own wacky imagination.

So some day, I swear, I will make something like this. And it will be hilarious and epic and full of insanely quotable non sequiturs and be treasured forever.

By me, at least.

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Look at this sexy doggo.

I really want to give him a good scritching between the ears.

Among other things. Rawr.

I’d probably end up wanting to take that collar off him eventually, if he will let me.

I just don’t like seeing someone tied up or restricted. Makes my skin crawl.

I’d make a lousy dom.

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And finally, check out this cute kitty.

I wonder if I could make him purr…. I’d sure as heck try….

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.