There was a big furore last week about the graphic sexual content in the BBC drama Wanderlust, which featured shocking scenes of grown-ups consensually unzipping each other’s trousers, and also of a MAN, an actual man, literally turning down sex because he was too tired.

But, I totally got it because in a couple with mismatched sex drives it isn't always the woman who has the 'headache'.

In a toss-up between sleep and sex, I’m at a stage in life where a long pleasant slumber wins nearly every time. I can literally go all night, and I do all the positions too: foetal, recovery, “the snoring starfish”.

That’s not to say that sex isn’t a magnificent, fun thing to do, it’s just that oftentimes my brain is bursting with angst (because I’ve absurdly chosen to make a living as a freelance writer), every week throws up a new existential crisis (because I’m a man in his 40s), and I also have children (two of the things, in fact).

As such, there is a dearth of rose petals and boudoirs lit up with a thousand candles. At this stage, not unlike the husband in Wanderlust, if I arrived home to a Kenny G soundtrack and my wife suspiciously wearing a raincoat I’d probably have a panic attack.