Where to Find Energy for Evening Sex When Even Coffee Doesn’t Work?
I’m a woman. And I’m tired. Chronically, completely, and urgently tired. If exhaustion could be sold, I’d be a billionaire. And if it could be traded for energy, I’d buy my own power plant. Maybe two, just to be safe.
During the day I’m at work, pretending I know what I’m doing. Meanwhile, I’m dealing with emails, calls, meetings, and occasionally some actual work. Then I rush to pick up the kids from kindergarten and school, where I pretend to be the world’s best mother. Followed by a carousel of activities, homework, dinner, and bedtime stories. And when I finally collapse on the couch at 8 PM, I hear that familiar voice: “Honey, how about a nice evening?”
A nice evening? For God’s sake, I’m just glad I’m breathing! At that moment, a nice evening for me is synonymous with silence, a horizontal position, and zero interaction with anyone who wants something from me. Yes, even with the person I love most in the world.
The Parallel Universe of Our Husbands
My husband is wonderful. Really. He loves me, helps me, brings me flowers. But sometimes I feel like he lives in a parallel universe. In his universe, kids apparently put themselves to bed, laundry washes and irons itself, and dinner cooks on its own. In mine, I’m the one doing all of it. And meanwhile, I’m trying not to lose my mind and maintain at least a shred of humanity.
In his universe, “helping” means occasionally taking out the trash or washing two dishes, while I’m running a logistics operation worthy of a general staff. He sees a tidy home but doesn’t see the three hours of chaos that preceded it. He sees smiling children but doesn’t hear the hour-long monologue about why teeth need brushing and why socks don’t belong in the bookshelf. And then, full of energy from this magically self-functioning world, he comes with a proposal for a “nice evening.” And I wonder if he’s joking.
Guaranteed (and Sarcastic) Tips to Survive the Evening
So where do you find energy for evening sex? I have a few tips I came up with myself. They’re a bit sarcastic, but what can you do. Desperate women do desperate things.
The Caffeine Diet. Forget about food. Eat only coffee. Morning, lunch, evening. And if that doesn’t work, have coffee at night too. Maybe you’ll manage to stay awake until at least 10 PM. And if not, at least you’ll have interesting dreams about running a marathon with a coffee maker on your back.
Sex as Cardio. Tell yourself that sex is just another form of exercise. And since you don’t have time to exercise, at least this way you’ll burn some calories. And maybe you’ll even fall asleep in the process. Two birds with one stone. Bonus points if you wear a fitness tracker and monitor your performance. Nothing kills romance quite like: “Honey, five more minutes, I need to burn at least 100 calories!”
Delegate. Tell your husband it’s his turn today. And if he complains that he’s tired, remind him that you’ve been tired since 2015. And if that doesn’t work, give him a detailed list of tasks to complete before he can even think about a “nice evening.” From hanging laundry to writing an essay on the topic “Why My Wife is Amazing and Deserves a Break.”
Lower Your Expectations. Who says sex always has to be like in the movies? Sometimes five minutes is enough. And if even that’s not possible, at least hug. That counts too. And if you fall asleep in the middle, at least you showed effort. And that’s appreciated. Maybe.
Outsource. In advanced stages of exhaustion, you can start thinking about external services. No, not what you think. I mean a cleaning lady, food delivery, a babysitter. Anything that saves you at least 30 minutes of time and energy. And then you can invest that into… sleep. Or sex. Depending on your mood.
And Now a Bit More Seriously (But Only a Bit)
If none of that works, just admit to yourself that you’re tired. And that it’s okay. You’re not a machine. You’re a woman. And women are sometimes tired. And they need to rest. And maybe sleep too.
Try talking to your partner. But not at 9 PM when you can barely stand. But calmly, on a weekend, over coffee. Tell him how you feel. Without accusations, without blame. Just describe your day to him. And then ask him about his. You might be surprised what you learn.
Maybe you’ll find out that he’s tired too, he just shows it differently. And maybe together you’ll figure out how to make that evening really nice. For both of you. And maybe it won’t be about sex, but about a bath together, a massage, or just sitting together in silence and holding hands.
And that sex? It can wait. Because love goes through the stomach. And through a tidy apartment. And through happy children. And only then through the bedroom. And sometimes, really only sometimes, it’s worth waiting until morning. Then there’s light, the kids are (maybe) still quiet, and you’ve had at least a few hours of sleep. And that’s sometimes more than all the coffee in the world.
