In need to touch myself

More often.

It used to be hard. As far as I can remember. Day in, day out. Everyday. Till I'm back at home. So hard, I'm not sitting comfortably anywhere. Office chairs. Food court stools. Car seats. In the conference room. Restaurants. Even nice looking designers' sofas. You name it.

I didn't notice it this morning when I got out from the house. Just when I'm about to tag the office door... Damn! Where's my wallet!? Not again! No wonder the car seat is so comfy lah!

And this is not the first time I left it.



There are things that I don't leave home without. Even to the street behind. Even I'm just wearing my boxer, and faded t-shirt (home-look mah!).

Watch. Functional, and fully shaken or winded, if it's automatic.

Handphone. (Fully) charged, or at least, not on red.

Cigarettes (with any ignitable flame/fire/sparks). Couple of sticks, at least. Even if I don't smoke on that journey.

Keys. House, and car.

And the wallet. Of course, with some cash in (and other barang lah).



All of these are flocked together on my drawer. All are within my sight. They are more like grab-and-go stuffs. Grab them, and leave the house. Bought an electronic safe recently. Don't ask why. And had been using it to keep my other documents and the wallet.

Not use to keying codes. Not when leaving the house. Not when I'm half awake. Not a habit.

I'll be shyly asking from colleagues again, if I didn't leave some cash in the car. Not my thing too. Not even to my closest. I refrain from borrowing money from anyone. Unless it's an emergency. Remember the out-of-service day? I wired to Since Primary Two straight away when I got his account.

Oh well, should check the pockets more often.



Don't mean to let you down; this is not a self-help masturbation technique or story. If I would to write something I fantasized, the title wouldn't be so obvious obscene porn-y.

*wink*