Some Days are Better than Others

"Why does the universe hate me?"
- G'Kar, Babylon 5

I've got about 150 CDRs, containing various installation programs, drivers, and data backups. Plus around the same number containing mp3s. They're all marked with a serial code, and I have a database of which files are on which disc. Much is redundant, duplicated or out-of-date, but it's all there in case I need it.

This means I can find the relevant files for any program I need to install, and the data of any project that I've backed up in the last 4 years.

Or rather I could, until yesterday morning. That was when my beloved laptop decided to crash, losing me a load of programs and data. Usually when this happens, after a small amount of swearing, I can put most of it back from the disc archive. Provided I've got an up-to-date copy of the database. Which for the first time since I set it up, I haven't. Usually I put copies on two computers and one on a memory stick - but I hadn't got around to doing it, being ill and busy with other people's computers.

Oh, I'm sure I could find a reasonably up-to-date copy, somewhere in the 150 or so discs. And I could find it easily by searching the database, if I had it with me. Which, you may recall, I don't.

Seeing as I don't know which disc stores the latest version of the database, and I updated it extensively since the last backup, I'm taking the opportunity to rebuild it from scratch, removing discs that are completely redundant. And if anyone makes any remarks about blessings in disguise, I shall force all 200GB up their virtual arse, sideways.

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There's a man I've been having occasional sex with for over a decade. A fuckbuddy. We don't have much in common, or much to say to each other, but it's been an amicable, mutually satisfactory arrangement.

He's been getting quite adventurous, and also more altruistic, in our sex dates over the last few months. But through no fault of his, I've become increasingly bored by our encounters.

In the new year I planned to tell him I didn't want to see him anymore - but then I was ill, and then decided to try it one more time just to be certain I wanted to dump him.

Tonight I did try it one more time, and couldn't wait for it to end. All I could think of was how much I wanted to be doing something else. So afterwards I told him all about it.

He was hurt, of course - even though I made it clear the problem was with my enjoyment, not his performance. He wanted us to stay friends, even though we never had a friendship - conversations were always short prologues and epilogues to sex.

There's patches of my skin that are sticky. Not with ejaculate - with mint. He ate several mints before we started, then kissed around half my body. When the saliva dried, it left behind a thin film of sticky mint sugar.