Supper’s over…kitchen’s cleaned up…a load of laundry’s done…favorite show is over. Time for getting things ready for another day tomorrow, and then bed. She slowly climbed the stairs with her arms full of the recently folded laundry and, after delivering clothes to each room, used the bathroom and then retired to her room. He was already in bed, watching tv. She almost dreaded getting into bed, knowing that it would be the same as previous nights. Lately it’s been three or four times a night. The covers come off… the covers go back on…she tries to go back to sleep. He just doesn’t understand how each time makes her so tired, and agitated. He usually sleeps right through each time. She knows when she gets up in the morning she’ll still feel tired, and it’s all because she is a she. It’s her reward (more like punishment) for being a woman - a woman who is aging.