Screwed Up

Karen Curran

Painting by Mara Kurtz

Word Count 221

There is nothing my husband would rather do than screw. 

 There. I said it. A simple statement, though not one normally used in everyday conversation.

My attitude towards sex: I can take it or leave it. Menopause has dialed back my hormones big time.

But making love is George's solution to any problem. If he's sick, sex makes him feel better. If he's sad, it makes him happy. If he's restless, it ensures a good night's sleep.

This is where the problem lies: having sex screws up my sleep. That's right. While it helps George relax, hanky-panky lights up every nerve in my body making sleep impossible. If we make love at bedtime, I’m guaranteed to hear the clock chime every fifteen minutes throughout a very long night. No sleep at all.

I'm the natural health enthusiast who wants to understand and explain everything that goes on in the human body, but there’s no explanation for this. It’s something Mother never told me about. As one of my friends put it, "It is what it is."  

Isn't sex supposed to relax people? Why not me? I could use sleep as much as the next person…probably even more. 

Wikipedia lists sex as a sleep aid. I looked it up myself.

And if everything on the internet is true, what's wrong with me?

*

I am a retired accountant, recently relocating from Franklin, Tennessee, to Missoula, Montana, to be close to my grandchildren. My stories can be found in Potato Soup Journal, Horse Illustrated Magazine, pulsevoices.org, three Stories of Life anthologies, deadmule.com, and oldkaren.co