My wrist buzzes. Without cognitive thought, I push the button. Return to sleep. My wrist buzzes again. And with this begins the dance of the beginning of a new week. I stumble down to the kitchen to start the coffee that I will need if I am to have any hope. As I am engaged in my robotic morning motions my mind wanders. These shorts. Larger than my size with fabric that is as thin as I can find. They’re so ugly. Why do I wear these? Oh, yeah. They’re as close as I have found to feeling naked as I sleep. Oh those days of only wearing clothes when necessary when I’m in the mood to not wear clothes. Another night passed. Another weekend. Feeling less than attractive. Feeling unfulfilled. Living a life in my brain that once was my reality. My robotic movements take me through the packing of a lunch, getting everyone headed for the door. Once finally alone, I undress. Standing in the anteroom of my bathroom and look in the mirrors surrounding me. Still existing in my brain. Thoughts heading down well-worn paths. Plenty would look at this hidden view with longing and hunger. Would want to consume me. I remember that nervous feeling of the increase in my breath, nervous but excited shiver of my body. Feeling so sexy and empowered as being the object of lust and the pathway for another’s attainment of their desire. To serve and surprise. To go further than they expected or hoped. To do things others might not. To be a lingering thought in their mind.

Alas, I shuffle to the mirror to begin the process of transforming to a mundane corporate professional. My thoughts acknowledging that the only thing longing for me this morning is the computer with it’s never-ending e-mails and video conferences. My desired service to fix the problems of others. The relief I provide that of resolving problems.