I suppose Freud might have seen it differently -- my id dominating my superego -- but whatever internal struggles were going on, I spoke without thinking.
I read the newspapers first, carry out any research necessary for my latest project, check a few journals which I find useful, then head for home.
I nodded, mutely, as she grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head.
It was a new slant for my writing.
I was suddenly aware that stripping off my trousers would make my semi-erection very evident, but at that point, I simply didn't care.
I took out my list of questions, ready to move forward.