As a CPA, the last month or so has been hell on wheels, and as almost every fellow professional is agreeing, the worst tax season in memory. It's the economy, stupid we've all said. And so frequently, the only time I've gotten out of the house is to either go to the post office to mail stuff off, to go to the bank to deposit my hard earned fees, or to the gym, if I could force myself out of bed in the morning to start the day off right. I decided that I would make a project out of listening to everything on my 4 gb Ipod, from #1 to #837, perhaps not in their entireties, but certainly touching on everything. The music goes everywhere, from 15th century polyphony to Ali and AJ, Mozart to Miles, Spanky and Our Gang to Junkie XXL. And along the way I rediscovered music that made me smile out loud, and forced me to play the track over and over and over, like Mr. Blue Skies by ELO, Gotta Get Up by Harry Nilsson, and numerous others.
Another byproduct of tax season was that I had little time for sex, often working until almost two in the morning, often getting up at six to continue or to escape to the gym. And it wasn't that bad really, because She had a wicked infection (the name of which I can't remember), which put Her in dry dock until Her vagina could repair itself (it turned out that She hadn't been to the OBGYN in over 1 1/2 years, but this is truly another story for another time). She's healed, I've rediscovered my libido, and so over the weekend, we rediscovered sex, sixtynining for almost 45 minutes until She decided that She'd had enough and decided to cum. The best part is that Her vaginal repair means that the way She tastes and smells is back to how it used to be, and so I walked around with Her aroma stuck in my nose all day Monday.
Which leads to talk about aromas---a few weeks ago I rediscovered the motherlode of all Indian/Middle Eastern grocery stores here in NYC, an emporium called Kalystyans...great sandwiches for cheap, every packaged food imaginable, fresh halvah custom cut. One of the things I bought was their own private blend of assorted dried fruit, to discover that the smell, the aroma, the pungent nose tease makes me swoon and makes my heart beat faster, almost as if it were a sexual smell. It is by far the strangest phenomenon that I've experienced in many a moon, and wonder if anyone else out there has ever had such a strong sexual reaction to a non sexual smell. Tell me about it, please.