Of course dingbat here, behind the keyboard, forgot to go get her TB test read and so I have to go back to the hospital tomorrow SOMETIME and have the nurse check the spot where she stuck the needle in my skin. I can't believe I forgot to do it today.

Stress really nulls my sex drive. For the past couple of weeks, I haven't had a whole lot of interest in sex. For J., however, he's been wanting sex like a spider monkey. When we'd been having sex,I haven't been able to have an orgasm for weeks until today. Finally! It's not that the sex wasn't great, but I've had no concentration. One thing J. is learning from me is that my orgasm is all in my mind. So, consequentially, I went to work satiated.

I had an odd dream the other night. I was absolutely enthralled with a woman who worked at a restaurant and who I knew was bisexual. She came over to my house one night and slept in my bed, but she was very, very little and fit in my hand like a tiny kitten. The next day I stopped by her restaurant and wanted her very badly. As soon as we got alone, she turned into J., unmistakably male and very satisfying in bed, though we didn't have sex. The following day, I visited her again. She leaned on my shoulder and I felt as if she was my younger sister clinging too much to me. The dream ended there. Any thoughts? Let me know.

Besides the fact that moving is a huge step for me and for my relationship with J., I can't wait to get out of my goddamn apartment. I have to pretend I'm asleep everytime Cate comes in the room so that she won't recount everything that went on in her day or evening, and usually interjecting, "My life is too stressful. I can't handle anymore." I have no sympathy, pity, or empathy. She usually talks about how one woman was flirting with her or she took a nap between two of her gay male friends, and they were touching her breasts. She's so afraid of taking risks, and I don't care to help her get over that fear.