Secret Confessions of a Horny Housewife?
I am not a housewife anymore. I am not sex-deprived and horny any more. There is no reason for me to live my life in secret. I’m not doing anything wrong, so I have nothing to confess.
Now we know what I am not. So what am I? I am a woman struggling to synchronize the disparate components of her life. A mother who doesn’t spend enough quality time with her son. A lonely person looking for companionship, understanding, support, and friendship. oh yeah, and sex. that too. a compulsive grammarian who has given herself permission to surrender to the powerful pull of lower-case letters. A woman who is tired, and confused, and up too late, and who doesn’t know what she’s writing, but a woman who is not on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Isn’t if funny that it wasn’t until I was officially separated from my husband that I did something I feel kind of ashamed about?
I’m tired and confused and my vagina is sore. I’ll give the old girl a break now. And you too.
Goodnight.
A Real Woman