Sexy Women with curly hair drive me crazy

Well, a more accurate statement would be, "I'm crazy. I saw two women that I think are sexy and I felt triggered."

It's not too difficult to see where I'm at and why.

My wife handed me my marriage documents to be destroyed by the rabbinical council in my hometown where I'll fly tomorrow to finalize our 'spiritual' divorce, around the same time when she'll be in civil court finalizing our 'legal' divorce.

I'm cashing in my life savings (there's not much there) to put a down payment on a condo that seems about twice as expensive as it should be, but it really is around market price from what I can tell.

This morning I met with Cassanadra, a 50 something married real estate agent and self-proclaimed artist (although her artwork is pretty stunning, which I found out at her house tonight in the presence of her husband). She showed me three properties in the price range and area I want to live in. The second property was a slam dunk. The first was a dud and the third was chintzy and way overpriced.

I made an offer a few percentage points below the list price on the second home and she seems to think I'll get it. Immediately I had buyer's remorse, and I hadn't even bought the thing yet. I've also developed this extreme uneasiness that I won't have the $6000 in earnest money in my checking account by the time she cashes my check for the escrot account. I have to get my 401k disbursement transferred lightening fast on Monday and I'm travelling half way across the country during business hours.

It's gonna take an act of G-d, as usual, to get everything done in time.

Speaking of which, I have not packed for my trip yet and I don't intend to sleep before I go to the airport in a few hours.

Which also reminds me, the airport area is where I used to pick up prostitutes--I have to make some phonecalls when I'm at the parking lot near the 'strip'.

So after dropping off the $6000 check at the sexy middle aged married lady's home, where I incidentally began to fantasize about the two of us engaging in sexual acts, I went to pick up cat food and litter for my kitties for the week I'm gone. Naturally, I saw the sexy 30-something skinny cashier with the stunningly beautiful curly brown hair tonight.

In spite of being on the phone with the rabbi that's hosting me in my hometown during the holiday trip, I asked her where her (sexy) accent was from.

As G-d would have it, she's from Israel, and likely Jewish--a criteria for my next (yes, 3rd) wife. So I got off the phone with the rabbi and my response to her was "Oh, I've heard of that. It's near Iraq, right?" She didn't find it amusing, which was what I was going for, and she moved on to the next customer.

But me, the sex addict, was thinking about how she'll remember me for my inane comment and she'll ask me next time if I've visited Israel.

When I tell her no, that's when she'll give me her number, tell me that she's transforming into an observant Jewish woman, and that she wants to be my marriage partner for life, no holds barred.

And then I woke up, driving home in my car, realizing I'd just spent $6000 that's not even in my account, I've not slept in about 16 hours and I plan to stay up at least for another six prior to going to sleep on the airplane cross country.

I have to pack now.

The question is, what am I going to do with all of these feelings? It's difficult to envision myself packing, driving to the airport, and going to the terminal now, let alone doing that without stopping at the cash station and then finding a prostitute to act out with while I miss my plane.

Wouldn't that be the bee's knees? Missing my flight to to the Midwest for my divorce in favor of spending money I don't have on an illegal sex act on the last night of my legal and spiritual marriage.

But I have to be easy on myself here.

I surrender all power to the Al-mighty, and will commit to putting one foot in front of the other from here, through the packing process, to the remote parking lot near 'pimp central', and then off to the airport where I hope to get to my flight on time, sleep on the plane, and face my situation as a man--as a true man, of Integrity should.

It shall be done, with the help of the One Above, and only by His Grace.

I'm powerless over my sex addiction, my sadness, my fatigue, and my litany of addictions/compulsions/neuroses.

Ironically, I find power in being powerless.

And it's the first step, admitting I'm powerless, that's kept me sober. Until tonight anyway...