*Author's note: In no way, shape or form is any content of this blog intended to be political or controversial. My reference to the NRA is only used as an example of how one might or might not obtain a Weapon of Mass Destruction with which to stop one's husband from snoring. Any other meaning taken thereof is strictly in your own mind. This blog is not a Democracy. It is a Dictatorship. Leave your politics off my page.
I'm not gonna lie; the only reason Dan is still alive this morning is because I couldn't get my hands on a Weapon Of Mass Destruction at 3:36 this morning.
I've told you before about his snoring, his godawful snoring, his terrible, horrible, GODAWFUL SNORING. This is not the gentle snoring that lulls you to sleep with a smile on your lips, secure in the knowledge that your spouse is lying next to you blissfully dreaming of chasing rabbits and eating cotton candy. Oh HELLL no. This is the loud, bone-jarring, nerve-racking, incessant roar of someone sitting right next to your head on a Harley, revving it non-stop for 8 to 10 hours every.single.night.
Every.Single.Night.
EVERY.SINGLE.NIGHT.
Night in, night out, night after night, week after week, month after month, year after year, the engine of that motherfucking Harley never catches and goes. Never. It just revs. And revs. And revs. And revs.
AND REVS.
We had him tested for sleep apnea and he passed with flying colors.
He tries sleeping on his left side... he snores like it's his job.
He tries sleeping on his right side... he snores like he's working over time and the money is big.
He tries sleeping on his back and ...
Don't even get me started with what happens when he sleeps on his back.
The other night as I was lying in bed counting the moments until dawn I thought to myself, "If I had a dollar for every night I've spent awake listening to Dan snore, I'd have, like, a million dollars or something."
(Don't judge. I suck at math. Either way, it would be a boatload of money. And by "a boatload," I mean "More than I have right now.")
Anyway, so last night was the last.freaking.straw.
Don't get me wrong, I've plotted his demise before. (What, like you haven't? Everyone who knows Dan has plotted his demise at some point or another.) Usually, as I'm lying awake, rather than counting how much money I'd theoretically have if someone paid me to put up with his snoring (which no one has, yet... *hint hint*) I'm planning the Perfect Murder.
The Perfect Murder Plot has come a long way, thanks to hours of research (and by "research" I mean "Watching Snapped!" Those bitches got caught. I won't.) I won't go into detail, but it all ends with me getting a good night's sleep.
It also frequently ends with me being featured on an episode of Deadly Women. It'll be the episode where everyone stands and cheers at the end, because not a jury in the world would convict me. Why, you ask? Because I have hours of his snoring recorded. I like to play it for him when he's really tired.
(This blog is a little disjointed because I've had like 8 minutes of sleep in the past 12 years. Forgive me for not being on top of my game.)
So like I was saying, last night I was lying next to Dan, plotting his demise. The snoring had reached fever pitch. To make it even more special, he was crowding me out of bed, his head resting almost on my pillow (which is a total and complete no-no in my house, due to the excessive amount of drool that pours out of his mouth the second his head hits the pillow) and sawing wood millimeters from my ear. I had pushed, punched, kicked, whacked, shoved, poked, and pinched him so many times that *I* was tired of it.
And then I thought, "Ya know, if I had a Weapon of Mass Destruction, I could strap his ass to it and the problem would be SOLVED."
And then I wondered, "Where does one get a Weapon of Mass Destruction?"
Does one contact the NRA?
Because that's out of the question. I refuse to pay a club just so I can be a member. If you don't like me well enough on my own merit, then by God, I don't want to hang out with you. If the NRA can't appreciate me for my finer qualities, then they can kiss my dimpled white ass, thank you very much.
(I started getting pissed, thinking about the NRA and how if I wanted a Weapon of Mass Destruction, I'd have to pay them to be my friend. Screw you, NRA. You don't even know me.)
Long story short (because I'm tired and lost my train of thought) due to the fact that I'm not a member of the NRA and refuse to pay them to like me, Dan was allowed to live until morning.
The first thing I said to him was, "Do not bother coming home from work tonight without ear plugs for me."
Him: "Why?"
Me: "Because if I have to spend another night listening to you snore, one of us will not make it until tomorrow."
I ratted him out to his mom later in the morning and she informed me she has some ear plugs that I can have. I thanked her profusely (I may have wept a little... ) and told Dan, "Your mom has ear plugs for me!"
Dan: "That's great! I'll finally get a good night's sleep!"
(I'll let you all chew on that for a minute. Still wondering why everyone who knows Dan has plotted his demise at one time or another? I didn't think so.)
Me: *blink* *blink*
Dan: *happily going about his business, visions of sugar plums dancing in his empty head*
Me: "What do you mean, YOU will finally get a good night's sleep?"
Dan: "I'm tired of you waking me up all night because I'm snoring. I can't even sleep on my left side because I'm "snoring on you." I didn't sleep for shit last night."
Every.Single.Night.
EVERY.SINGLE.NIGHT.
Night in, night out, night after night, week after week, month after month, year after year, the engine of that motherfucking Harley never catches and goes. Never. It just revs. And revs. And revs. And revs.
AND REVS.
We had him tested for sleep apnea and he passed with flying colors.
He tries sleeping on his left side... he snores like it's his job.
He tries sleeping on his right side... he snores like he's working over time and the money is big.
He tries sleeping on his back and ...
Don't even get me started with what happens when he sleeps on his back.
 |
| This. THIS happens. |
The other night as I was lying in bed counting the moments until dawn I thought to myself, "If I had a dollar for every night I've spent awake listening to Dan snore, I'd have, like, a million dollars or something."
(Don't judge. I suck at math. Either way, it would be a boatload of money. And by "a boatload," I mean "More than I have right now.")
Anyway, so last night was the last.freaking.straw.
Don't get me wrong, I've plotted his demise before. (What, like you haven't? Everyone who knows Dan has plotted his demise at some point or another.) Usually, as I'm lying awake, rather than counting how much money I'd theoretically have if someone paid me to put up with his snoring (which no one has, yet... *hint hint*) I'm planning the Perfect Murder.
The Perfect Murder Plot has come a long way, thanks to hours of research (and by "research" I mean "Watching Snapped!" Those bitches got caught. I won't.) I won't go into detail, but it all ends with me getting a good night's sleep.
 |
| He loves it when I suggest this. LOVES it. It doesn't make him nervous AT ALL. |
It also frequently ends with me being featured on an episode of Deadly Women. It'll be the episode where everyone stands and cheers at the end, because not a jury in the world would convict me. Why, you ask? Because I have hours of his snoring recorded. I like to play it for him when he's really tired.
 |
| Word. |
(This blog is a little disjointed because I've had like 8 minutes of sleep in the past 12 years. Forgive me for not being on top of my game.)
So like I was saying, last night I was lying next to Dan, plotting his demise. The snoring had reached fever pitch. To make it even more special, he was crowding me out of bed, his head resting almost on my pillow (which is a total and complete no-no in my house, due to the excessive amount of drool that pours out of his mouth the second his head hits the pillow) and sawing wood millimeters from my ear. I had pushed, punched, kicked, whacked, shoved, poked, and pinched him so many times that *I* was tired of it.
And then I thought, "Ya know, if I had a Weapon of Mass Destruction, I could strap his ass to it and the problem would be SOLVED."
And then I wondered, "Where does one get a Weapon of Mass Destruction?"
Does one contact the NRA?
Because that's out of the question. I refuse to pay a club just so I can be a member. If you don't like me well enough on my own merit, then by God, I don't want to hang out with you. If the NRA can't appreciate me for my finer qualities, then they can kiss my dimpled white ass, thank you very much.
(I started getting pissed, thinking about the NRA and how if I wanted a Weapon of Mass Destruction, I'd have to pay them to be my friend. Screw you, NRA. You don't even know me.)
Long story short (because I'm tired and lost my train of thought) due to the fact that I'm not a member of the NRA and refuse to pay them to like me, Dan was allowed to live until morning.
The first thing I said to him was, "Do not bother coming home from work tonight without ear plugs for me."
Him: "Why?"
Me: "Because if I have to spend another night listening to you snore, one of us will not make it until tomorrow."
I ratted him out to his mom later in the morning and she informed me she has some ear plugs that I can have. I thanked her profusely (I may have wept a little... ) and told Dan, "Your mom has ear plugs for me!"
Dan: "That's great! I'll finally get a good night's sleep!"
(I'll let you all chew on that for a minute. Still wondering why everyone who knows Dan has plotted his demise at one time or another? I didn't think so.)
Me: *blink* *blink*
Dan: *happily going about his business, visions of sugar plums dancing in his empty head*
Me: "What do you mean, YOU will finally get a good night's sleep?"
Dan: "I'm tired of you waking me up all night because I'm snoring. I can't even sleep on my left side because I'm "snoring on you." I didn't sleep for shit last night."
It's amazing how oblivious men are. Seriously, there needs to be a study, because it defies all logic and reason. Screw the earplugs . . . get that man a muzzle!!
ReplyDeleteIf I muzzled him, he would drown in his own drool.
ReplyDeleteOh wait...
My husband snored quite badly too. I took one of those little airline blankets, rolled it up and stuck it under his pillow (on the off chance that it would do the trick) and for the most part it has helped quite a bit. His snoring has been reduced about 75%, and if he does snore, I just nudge him and he rolls back on his side.
ReplyDeleteMy husband will wake himself up with his snoring-- it's that freaking loud. I've found that if I can fall asleep first, then I can tolerate it, so it's his job to remain awake until he knows I'm asleep. This has worked for us for the last few years. It sure as hell beats the alternative-- his mom had to have her jaw broken and reset (and wired for weeks, drinking her food through a straw and all that jazz) in order to fix her snoring/apnea problem.
ReplyDeleteAlso? NO ONE better touch my freaking pillow. If I can't flip it to the cool side when I want to throughout the night, there will be hell to pay.
You know what's REALLY bad? When your husband is sleeping in the spare bedroom across the hall because his snoring keeps you awake, and it's STILL loud enough to disrupt your sleep from there! Rattles the windows, I tell ya.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes... you would definitely be acquitted.
Wow, Dan always knows exactly what to say, doesn't he?
ReplyDeletePersonally, I love it when my husband snores, and no amount of poking or shoving or yelling at him will get him to stop. The following morning, upon getting bitched out for keeping me awake, he'll inevitably say, "Why didn't you just wake me up?"
So, yeah, I'm with you Dani. Alibis for life.
*fist bump*
DeleteYou know it, mama.
xoxo
His comment calls for revenge. Save up your filthy socks and next time he snores, stuff them in his mouth.
ReplyDeleteOh no he didn't!!!! Eddie dared snoring once and I smothered him with the pillow within an inch of his life. I don't think he's really slept since then. Post traumatic stress syndrome or some bullshit...
ReplyDeleteHugs!
Valerie
My husband is the snoring Grand Pubah. I went online and got him snoremender. It has saved us! No more me stomping off to the spare room! They work really well, give it a try!
ReplyDeleteabout a year after my next door neighbors moved in, we were chatting outside and the husband asks me if his video game playing is too loud. i looked at his wife and told her she deserved a medal for not covering his face with a pillow and sitting on it until he stops moving. (i do like to answer questions that aren't asked, skillz y'all) she started laughing so hard because she knew what i was talking about. her husband asked me what was so funny, i told him that he snores so loud he wakes me up at night. our master bedrooms are not close to each other. he went to a sleep study center the next week. she had been complaining to him for over five years that he snored, and he refused to believe her. i would make a great marriage counselor if i didn't feel so stabby all the time.
ReplyDeleteMy Hubs says I snore... He is never allowed to read your blog.
ReplyDeleteTwo words: SEPARATE BEDROOMS. Maybe in different houses.
ReplyDelete