I received an unexpected text this week, not from Domino’s pizza tempting me to purchased a calorific stuffed crust, but from my water supplier advising me that “with little rain forecast we need to bring in a hosepipe ban”. A hosepipe ban!
Whenever I hear the words “ban” “no” or “not allowed” it absolutely feels like reverse psychology and I suddenly want it more than anything else on earth. I can’t have a stuffed crust? In that case I’ll drive a hundred miles just so that I can have two!
Not that I even have a hosepipe as my garden is artificial and I take my car to the carwash, but to be told that you’re not allowed to do something is quite a definite act which takes me back to my school days and the thought of sitting outside of the headteachers office.
This naturally led to my mind connecting the hosepipe ban with the thought of being on a sex ban, as you do. And I found myself laughing initially and then wanting to vomit in my own mouth over the attitude of my ex and thoughts of the past.
Suddenly my mind was flooded with moments of drama when my ex would put me on a sex ban, rolling over in a defiant huff and facing the wall in bed because of the most random things. Once a man smiled at me in the street – two day sex ban! His brother complimented my hair – long weekend sex ban! I failed to remember the name the University that he went to – bank holiday Monday sex ban!
It seems blood flow is a powerful weapon for holding the cards of control. So how will I overcome these unsettling thoughts of the hosepipe ban being enforced and reminding me of past sex bans? Simple; I’ll stick to my saliva and sort myself out until it rains again!
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