The girlfriend and I have decided to have another kid. It makes sense, really. Have 'em two years apart so that they're close in ages, we're still young (although not to you aimless high school kids), and money is no longer an issue. Everything says its a good idea, and I'm all for it. Another child would be wonderful. Plus, all the doin' it one could wish for!

...be careful what you wish for.

The idea of daily sex was a real advantage to having another child for me at the start of the ordeal. Now it's become like a second-job you dread going to but still go to in order to maintain some level of living. My job is very, VERY demanding, both physically as well as mentally. When I get home approximately thirteen plus hours after leaving, I'm tired, worn out and ready to either (1) see my daughter, or if she's in bed for the night (2) isolate myself to get back to being human again. (Fuck shift work.....I would kill for a normal 9-5 daily grind.)

The second my boots hit the front entrance, she's on me like a hawk. The conversation is pretty similar each time. God bless her for at least changing some of the dialogue from day to day. An example:

Her: You know what today is, right?

Me: (IN MY HEAD: "Same fucking thing it was yesterday....and the day before....and the day before! Why bother asking?! I'm not fucking stupid! I know the drill by now, you rentless harpie!!") OUT LOUD: "Yup."

Her: "We'll start once she's in bed. Don't touch yourself before then!"

She feels the need to tell me this EACH time! Like I'm some animal that can't control pawing at his own genitals long enough to......ah, who am I kidding. It's good advice, really. Anyway, to the point: I'm expected to knock back a few billion after a very long, very tiring day every night....my dream come true has turned into a pure nightmare. (Its a lot like when I waited and waited to see Phantom Menace when it first came out, only to discover it's dark, unforgiveable underbelly of plot-holes... and Jar-Jar.) It's not even that good anymore. When its for fun, it's fantastic  fun. When it's work, it's work. You can't wait for it to be over and you don't really put your whole effort into it. I find my mind drifting each time just to be able to perform properly. (Old girlfriends, hot-ass bitches from TV or movies, Angie111, etc;) 

I get the job done quick, then slink away to the kitchen for some guilty supper, then to the TV to watch a pre-recorded Liverpool game or the Setanta news feed. It's bordering on mundane anymore....not a good sign, me thinks. I've asked a guy at work who I figure had the same problem (six kids...plus I've met his wife and she strikes me as scary and somewhat dangerous individual). He said it was "normal"...then to never bring it up with the girlfriend OR his wife, lest we both want to end up with or sacks removed with a rusty soup spoon. He did say to "change shit up a bit", but after a grueling day of dealing with everyone else's problems, all I want to do is relax and re-set my mind to normal operating mode. (The hazards of the job, I guess.)

So....has it come to this? I'm only 27, and I've already lost the drive to fuck. I would much rather watch a bunch of re-runs of How I Met Your Mother than get it on with the little lady. I would rather sit and read a book than to get my junk handled. I would rather snow blow the driveway than...well, that one is a little obvious, I guess. My point is, I never thought I'd be the guy who treated sex like a chore, and now I do. Maybe things will change when she finally does get pregnant again.....right?

...right??????

Thanks for reading,

-The Big Bad