Is it the high of being in a new environment? The possibility of ordering champers and room service twenty-four by seven and never setting foot outside the hotel room? The sudden relief from the pressure of not having to go to work? Not having to deal with the mundane, day-to-day responsibilities of life? Or, maybe the simple fact that you’re sans kids for a solitary night?
Perhaps it’s a combination of all of the above. Almost every woman I know agrees; vacation sex is the best.
One of my friends relates that from the time she awakes to the time she peels back the bed covers, every moment’s scheduled according to everyone else’s demands. First, it’s what needs to be done for the kids, then her partner, and then her boss. When she finally lies down sleep’s impossible because she’s too preoccupied composing mental to do lists for the following day.
Have we become so busy that sex is no longer a priority?
It’s now common to discover you’re no longer in a relationship not from your better half, but on Facebook or Twitter.
Exactly when did living virtually replace the physical nitty-gritty of reality?
All my fingers and toes are crossed in the hopes that the wild pendulum swing of social networking will somehow settle, and we’ll find a healthy middle ground. But I have this sinking feeling that things are going to get a heckuva lot worse before they begin to get better.
What’s your take on the topic?