The Zaftig Chronicles

Yeah, things are pretty hectic right now. Just taking a spare moment to write this has fucked up my schedule.  Work has made me a zombie; I'm living off air, Kung Pao chicken, Fresca, and phone calls to half my workforce to attack their incompetence. I'm so swamped. I don't even think I will finish everything by next week.  Seriously, life gets like this at this time of the year. Trust me, interesting things are happening, but I just don't have the time right now to chronicle them. Bear with me. And thanks for the caring emails. Things should resume briefly.

What's the maxim? Never begin a relationship with someone you work with!  Fair.  But sometimes you just have to Step In and see where things lead. Maybe things will lead to a sushi dinner at Sushi Wabi or burger and fries at some greasy spoon or a meaningful evening in each other's arms. You just have to Step In and find out.  It's risky. Yeah and so is leaving your home. Shit happens; but good shit happens once in a while, and that's the shit you want. The key here is you have to want it.  "What do you need?" he asked me, today at work. "Because I'm willing to give it to you. I don't know how much more I can show this to you." I want a lot of things: I want better manners; smarter decisions; tastier grocery store fruit; 36 hour days; more competent co-workers; better investments; more time with my family (sans cousins); my sister to be okay; less cramping; more women to utilize the sanitary bags in the bathroom to dispose of their feminine

I'm having way too much sex! I'm doing way too many positions. I destroying way too many sheets. I having way too many orgasms. I knew things had got out of hand when, on a Saturday evening, I was in a piledriver position, getting it every way to Sunday, literally. We stopped at five am, Sunday morning. My back is killing me! I'm on Tylenol and Elexa this weekend. I'm really losing my mind about everything. This morning, Diane stopped by and I opened the door with my boobs hanging out of his shirt. "You look absolutely fucking out of your mind," Diane remarked. "Go home," I said. "I'm busy." Diane pushed me aside, barged in, and demanded to see the man who has me in this ravaged state. "He's in the shower," I said. "Now go home." "Okay, but I'm coming back with Jan. Tell him to go home." She finally left without seeing Steven. I joined Steven in the shower and we went at it once again. I screamed,

Well, my New Year was quite happy. I spent all Sunday lounging in bed with Steven. Sure, we smelled like sex, alcohol, and freshening cloths, but it was such a beautiful moment. The only times he left the bed was to bring us toothpaste and toothbrushes, me orange juice, and to pay for our ordered-in Chinese. And the only time I left was to use the bathroom. We even had a chopstick duel that lasted a good ten minutes, with me winning by snapping his chopsticks into fours, to which he exclaimed, "Damn bamboo!" After we were fully fed, sexed, and freshned, we watched On Demand programming, which was both fun (the Cathouse series on HBO) and gross (The Discovery Channel's Medical Incredibles series, where a woman's skin fell off.) Then we talked about our New Year's resolutions. He wants to buy a new car. I, on the otherhand, want to stop buying stuff. "I'd like to be sensible ." He finally went home around eleven, it was then I changed my sheets and too