Even after a demented pair of nights spent trying to keep up with Nick, a handsome, sexy younger guy – one whose approach to everything is aggressively, even competitively, sensual, and who complains in one breath about the “bubble” of Sitges (by which he means the strangely unreal effect of the desire-oriented population – and that is not only the tourists, of course) and announces in the next his impatience to move on to the next drink, chemical, or erotic activity – I’m not disoriented or uncertain. Even Susan and Rob’s gentle teasing about my not getting work done seems merely genial, amusing.
This is, I think, because I am now so different than I have been in the past – certain gaping chasms in my emotions or confidence are long and solidly healed up. I can view youthful sensuality with humor, and without feeling either annoyed or intimidated; and the (inverse) relation between pleasure and productivity no longer worries me. I’ll get some work done, and it may not be all that I’d planned but it will be a lot, and that will be all right....
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