The State I'm In

Those of you who studied the title of today's post might have automatically assumed that I've finally accomplished my short-term goal of moving to the northeast U.S. But no, I'm still here in the midwest, trying to sell my house so that I can join the rest of my family in New England.

What I really should've titled today's post was 'The State of my Mailbox,' since that's what I'll be addressing. I'm taking an administrative stance here today, fellows. No smut follows. Sorry to disappoint you.

One of the reasons I enjoy blogging is the interaction with my readers. I like the dialogues started in my comments, or the memories I'll sometimes trigger with you guys that you'll take the time to post. I like the emails you send me, and the questions you ask. My line of everyday work tends to be fairly isolated, so the online contact means a lot to me.

I get a lot of fan mail from the blog. I actually get a lot more fan mail from the blog than I do for my everyday line of creative work, in which I have actual fans. (Okay, one fan. She's like Mel, in Flight of the Conchords.) Unless the email is aggressively unpleasant or spam or obviously doesn't require an answer, I like to answer every single one of my emails.

There are times when I am very industrious and set aside several hours to work my way through my inbox  until every letter is answered. Then, with a great feeling of accomplishment, I take my carpal tunneled wrists and go relax for a bit. When I return to my computer an hour later, the inbox is full again, and the flood's rising.

The minor drawback is that I do a lot of typing. The major thing to remember, though, is that I love you guys and love that you write me.

What I'd like to say today is simple: gosh, don't stop writing me. And rest assured that I will write you back. However, please don't panic, or assume I dislike you, or sever all bonds of friendship because my reply is not immediate.

My blog is about my sex life, and it's been a substantial part of my life for many months. It isn't my entire life, however. I don't get paid to keep it up. (The more it feels like an unpaid job, the less I'm likely to enjoy it.) I am a man who is trying to keep his shit together during a period of my life that's been—to say the very least—more hectic and stressful than anything this side of a death in the family.

So if I am a little tardy in responding to your emails, please forgive me. I honestly will get around to them.

Don't let the message you take away today be, Well fine! I just won't write you then! That's not what I'm asking. Simply let me not have to type, at the beginning of every one of my overdue missives, I'm so sorry to be late in replying to you, but my life has been hectic lately! 

Just take that part as a given.

Carry on with your weekends—and have a good one. I'm already two fucks behind in my entries, and we'll have more to catch up on, next week.