A night owl but not by choice

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.”

Sleep is one-third of our lives: write a post about it. Do you love naps? Have trouble falling alseep? Wish you could remember your dreams? Remember something especially vivid? Snuggle under a blanket, or throw the windows wide open? Meditate on sleep.

Ahh, sleep.  Something I think about many times a day, as I yawn (and I just made myself yawn by thinking about it).  A self-confessed morning person, sleeping in for me means 6:30 or 7:00 am at the very latest.  This is great, I love the morning; the coffee, the sun rise, the dew on the ground.  Now, if my body would just cooperate on the sleeping part, things would be great.

I have good intentions; I try to go to bed before ten; you know, the actual lying down part.  Since my alarm goes off at 5:30 on most mornings, 9:30 should be the goal for slumber, providing I am aiming for a full 8 hours.  There are times when I can fall asleep pretty fast, but if my husband comes to bed later, or is watching t.v., I will wake up.  I am a very light sleeper; always have been.  Often, I wake up when a coconut falls and hits our dock outside, or if the neighbor’s dog barks or if a helicopter flies over (which creeps me out anyway at night).

On a good night after being awakened, I can fall back to sleep in about an hour.  Well, I could if it weren’t for the other problem.  My husband is out like a light and can sleep through a hurricane, but all the while, he is snoring.  Yes, I know I can get up and go to another room but then I’m looking at another hour to get settled.  Since I have written about snoring before; a fictional story in That’s absurd and the real deal in Sleeping with the Enemy I won’t elaborate further about that struggle here.

I tell myself that the one nap a week I allow myself, on Sunday afternoons, somehow makes up for it, but I know that isn’t true.  The only other time I nap is if I’m sick.

Tonight, as I turn down the thermostat and snuggle under the covers, I will dream (while I’m awake) of a full night’s sleep; the kind where you close your eyes and they don’t open again until morning, the kind I don’t remember ever having, although I’m sure I did in my younger days.  For now, it’s time to start watching the clock and attempting once again to “go to bed earlier”, a plan I’ve been working towards for months now.

And yes, I do have dreams too, but the ones I remember are few and far between and often feature snakes so we won’t go there.  Sweet dreams!

Weekly Writing Challenge: That’s Absurd

from Dreamstime.com

The Challenge:

  • Write a fictional piece that incorporates the everyday life we’re familiar with — work, family, errands — and add a surprise twist through an imaginary character, absurd turn of events, or Sci-Fi-esque setting.

As I told my husband about this little story this morning over coffee, he laughed.  I’m not sure what we will ever do about the snoring, but I am hoping I just learn to sleep through it 🙂

It was one of those nights where the tiny sliver of moon that existed, stayed nestled behind the clouds.  I sat up in bed, surrounded by a blanket of darkness, then stood and groped my way to the bathroom.

As I returned to bed I remember wondering if I should just continue on to the couch or the spare bedroom.  My husband’s snoring had awakened me multiple times already and there was no sign of that ceasing.  All the frustrated grunts, pillow punching and cover jerking had provided only temporary relief from the incessant noise.  My annoyance had reached colossal proportion.

I looked up as a flicker of light from the lampshade on my bedside table caught my attention.  We never see lightning bugs here, so what in the world was going on?  Did my phone go off?  Or worse, was there someone outside with a flashlight, intent on coming in?

Then I saw him.  Had he not been so tiny, I am sure fear would have gripped me.  He was about an inch tall, standing there as bold as you please on my alarm clock.  He was dressed like one of the seven dwarves and sporting a beard as long as his body.  He looked very old, but was also very spry.

As I sat down on the bed to have a closer look, he exclaimed in a high pitched voice, “Hello, my name is Snuffer!”

“Where did you come from and why are you here?” I asked in a whisper, trying not to disturb my husband’s sleep, for reasons unknown to me.

He said, “When someone like you reaches a certain level of frustration with a snoring spouse, I come to snuff their breath!”

“Excuse me?  Snuff their breath? Do you mean as in stopping their very breathing?”

“Aha, you are a quick study!  “Yes, exactly”, he said with a smile.

Now, I began to panic.  “Oh no, you can’t do that!”  Then we began a dance of sorts, as he tried to get around me to get to my husband.  He was much quicker than you would imagine and I finally screamed, “Stop, you horrid little man!”

With this, my husband snorted, sat up and bed and asked me who I was talking to.  I looked up from my horizontal position, my head lying on the pillow at the darkness all around me and quietly said, “No one.”

Sleeping with the Enemy

funny-snoring

Found on Pinterest, “original owner” unknown but will post if someone knows

When I was a little girl, I remember my Poppy dozing off in his recliner sometimes after he read the paper.  He would snore and we would giggle.  It was a comforting sound to me, but then again I wasn’t trying to sleep at the time.  I was having a sleepover at Granny and Pops.

Fast forward forty years and I’m lying in bed next to the man I love oh so much and that same innocent snore has me feeling slightly homicidal.

First I try coughing or the really loud throat clearing noise, which will sometimes cause him to shift positions and cease for at least ten seconds.   He sleeps with two pillows, so I try first gently, then like a maniac, adjusting them under his head.  This might work another few seconds.  Through the years, I have hit him (gently), plugged his nose (briefly) and woke him up completely.

While I lie there, I am always optimistic for the first 10 minutes that surely he will get it all out and I’ll doze off myself.  That rarely happens.  I end up gazing at the clock and re-calculating how many hours of sleep I have left before the alarm.

Before anyone begins to tout “breathe right strips”, we’ve tried them.  If they worked, I would have bought stock in them.  They were a complete failure. Then, there was the suggestion about advising my man to take an afternoon nap, as perhaps this would help him be more relaxed.  No, that just gives me double the snoring.

I bought the almost seventy dollar mouthpiece and that seemed to work somewhat for a few months.  He hates it and swears it will ruin his teeth, but he is kind enough to wear it at least three or four times per week.  Alas, it seems to have lost its worth as well.  He snores whether he wears it or not lately.

When I was a child, I never understood why older people had separate rooms and I always vowed and declared that would never happen to me and my husband.  Well, I get it, now – I really do.  I’m still confident that it won’t come to that, but it may require surgery on his part, or some very expensive ear plugs on mine.

So, if you have any suggestions, feel free to share.

Signed,

Sleepy in South Florida 😉

Mitch Teemley

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