The other night my gal and I crawled into bed together at the end of a very long day.

I had come from staffing an on-the-job event late into the night and she had got off late, too, from her crummy per diem job.

I was exhausted and my out-of-shape body felt the weight of 48 years of various sorts of psychological and physical abuse, the indignity of a lifetime of slave wage labor and other psychological and physical degradation.

My girl is a day worker whose boss doesn’t give her a lunch break or even time to pee. I am a cog in the corporate machine, just another warm body filling a seat and grinding away at something that doesn’t really matter in the larger scheme of things.

I looked at my girlfriend and sighed. “I’m so tired, so very tired,” I said, and she understood. Her curvy naked body was warm next to me. She looked incredibly sexy and we hadn’t had sex for who knows how long; so tired, so very tired. I thought about all of this for a moment and said to her, “I don’t care how tired we are, we need to have sex, for ourselves, but also to stand against The Man, to not let corporate greed and crummy bosses crush our spirit — or our sex life. She readily agreed.

It’s 6 o’clock in the morning and I’m still tired; too tired to even write a sex scene (what, no fucking? as one reader asked with a wink and a smile), but we did have sex that night, and the next night and made a promise to ourselves and each other we would not capitulate to the soul-sucking jobs and bosses that would, if we let them, crush our very beings and turn us into soulless robots without feelings, desires, urges — or independent thought.

It’s hard to balance jobs, which to me describes what we do that is not necessarily of our own choosing. We take jobs to survive, to receive a paycheck, to buy groceries, to pay the rent. Jobs are fro survival. Work is another story, and in my opinion, something we choose to do, something we like to do and are very likely good at. Work is something beyond surviving—it’s about thriving. Since my gal and I are both writers, we also, apart from our draining jobs, make and take the time to do our own work as well. We also support other writers, artists and activists by showing up to readings, performances and protests.

With tis all taking place during a time when we also toil at our 40-plus hours per week jobs, it’s incredible that we ever see each other at all, let alone have the opportunity to fuck. I wrote a simple “xo” on my girlfriend’s Facebook wall one day when I had barely seen her for about over week. “Get a room,” said one of our mutual friends, a real comic. Actually she really is a comic – her work, but it does not support her financially. “We have an entire apartment, but are rarely in it at the same time,” I retorted to the comic.” Another friend posted, “That sucks!”

Yes, it does suck. That my gal and I mostly have only tired sex these days. That jobs and work are quite often not the same pursuits. That corporations and their manic rush for massive profits are placed above individuals and individual human needs, desires and necessities.

But, he lack of integrity of the American “work” ethic and this society’s corporate culture of greed cannot buy or kill my sexual desire for and fun fucking with my girlfriend. We will not let it. We are lovers, not just roommates.

Hell no, we won’t go (without sex).

#occupy #revolt #write #fuck #thrive