Honorable Mention in our Women's Issues Contest - Congratulations, LInda!

Confessions of a True Hottie!
by Linda R. Cook

Where to start?  I wake at 2:00 a.m., drenched in sweat, yes, I do mean sweat, and stumble to the bathroom to blot myself dry, wondering how on earth my husband could sleep through my misery.  It’s bad enough I wake up every half hour sopping wet, kicking blankets away, ripping my nightie off, and fanning myself - can’t he even have the decency to wake up and sympathize with me? For heaven’s sake, I could fall down and crack my head open, or get stuck on the pot, or, or, or I could even run away with someone and he’d never miss me til breakfast.  He not only manages to sleep through my rivers of sweat and nocturnal wanderings, but snores so loudly the windows rattle and I fear an earthquake is upon us. 

I really think there should be some way to blame him for all of this.  I’m sure it’s his fault.

My guynocologist recommended I drink green tea, add soy to my diet, avoid spicy foods, exercise for a minimum of 30 minutes per day, and check back with him in a year. He assured me this routine would help the hot flashes decrease over time.  Well, it’s been 12 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 49 minutes, 16 seconds, and the only thing decreasing is my patience and my breast size. And now, in addition to hot flashes, the green tea makes me pee all night, my skin resembles tofu curds, the exercise causes my sweat to stink, and without spicy food, my life has no spice at all.

Today I saw Dr. Guy again and he asked me about my libido. I told him it was a vague memory and that orgasm is a word I use when I play Scrabble.  I mentioned that when Tom Cruise dropped by and tried to sweep me off my feet I asked him to sweep my kitchen floor instead.  “There is no balance in my life,” I tell him. “I’m either so hot I look and feel like a volcano erupting or I’m shivering, and have goose bumps the size of golf balls.”

He pats my shoulder and says, “You seem to be coping.”

I reach in my purse and grab my gun.

Linda Cook lives in Redwood Country in the Northwest corner of California. She shares home with her husband and best friend of 37 years and is the mother of two terrific adult sons.  The three men in her life provide her with much joy, laughter, and volumes of writing material. 

She has many interests, and hopes to live long enough to explore at least half of them, but for now, particularly enjoys time with her family, friends, gardening, and discovering treasures at garage sales.  An avid reader, you’ll find books under her bed, in closets, in her car, and some even on bookshelves.

Linda has recently begun to seriously pursue her love for writing, and hopes it will bring a chuckle, rekindle a memory, and entertain.

Contact Linda.