Sorry I haven’t updated for a while. Things have not been well for me. I won’t go through all the gory details, but the main problem is that, at the age of 43, I am deep in the throes of menopause. The hormone crashes are making me mental. I can barely sleep, I get hot flashes, I’m tired all the time and this post is the first thing I’ve been able to write in days. The only good is that I’ve seemed to almost totally lost my appetite and am now losing weight.
The really embarrassing thing is that my sex drive has returned. My libido went totally bye-bye for more than two years. I really didn’t mind at the time. I got a lot of work done. I read a lot of good books. My days were full. Any sexual feelings I had went entirely into my dreams. As soon as I’d wake up, the libido was gone. It actually simplified my life quite a bit.
And now I can’t get sex with Sherlock Holmes out of my head. Specifically, sex with Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes. (Sadly, Brett himself died at the age of 59 in 1995.) Sherlock Holmes can find anything — including my libido, apparently I try to do something else and somehow wind up on YouTube watching old episodes of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
It’s not really sex with him that I can’t stop thinking about, but a sort of merging with him. Wouldn’t it be nice to one day wake up, look in the mirror and see Jeremy Brett’s Holmes looking back at me? It would be great to be Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes. I already have an addiction (although to Brett’s Holmes and not cocaine). I’m also mentally ill. I, too, have given up romance for a life of stimulating the mind.
Today I cut off my long hair (it’s too hot for it, anyway) and slicked it back with gel like in the photo of Brett’s Holmes here. I actually look better. Maybe I’m on to something here.