Thursday, January 5, 2012

Attack of the Yeti

The Yeti is my dear husband.

The very first time I called him a Yeti was on our honeymoon.  It was due to his huge daddie long leg gait when he was walking fast.  It reminded me of Bigfoot from that 70s film footage in the woods.

It was funny. And cute.

Now, not so much.

The Yeti refers to the open mouth snoring I am greeted with at about 2am in my face every night.  He works 2nd shift and I am in bed by the time he gets home. Hopefully asleep, as most times I am.

There was a time when I'd not even sleep in my own bed. Rather made a pallet on the sofa and camped out in Sofa Town every night.  It worked for me....sometimes.  A lot of the time he'd come home from work, and there I am asleep. He'd heat up dinner, watch TV, clash around and I'd be awake. Note : It takes me roughly 45 minutes to fall asleep.

That lasted almost a year, I think.  Now, I make sure I go to bed roughly around 10pm so that I should be asleep by the time he gets home. But it never fails that at least 8 times out of 10 I'm awoken to either him being a one man earthquake machine or having the hot damp snore exhale in my gullet.  And then I'm back on the sofa.

Here's recordings I did of him a while back. No, it's not loud and insane, just one example to actually prove to him that he snored. He always said he didn't.

 My bed pillow has become permanent decor in the living room. As has my blanket. In the living room, I also get to contend with the cat, Sophie, who is an OCD licker/groomer.  For some reason, she loves to groom herself to death very close to me. The dog, Buddy, likes to wake me up in the middle of the night to piddle in the back yard.

Now, you might be saying, "Hey, bitch, why do you think you can even bitch about it?"

Well, first of all, I don't think you should call me a bitch unless you know me well. Although I do not have the conventional office space to work in, I am nonstop from morning till night.  I do have carpool/school drop off every weekday morning. The rest of the day I am mom, taxi, cook, maid and sometimes I get to do what I want.  Regardless - I am human and need my sleep. When I don't have my sleep, I am a bigger bitch than normal. That's good for no one.

For the past 5 years or so, I've asked him to go to a sleep clinic. Get a sleep study done. Something. ANYTHING. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a heart.  It's not always tiny, cold and black.  I do think he's got sleep apnea. He snores going in and coming out.  He struggles to breath at times. I make him take naps whenever possible because I know he's not resting well with all that shit. I've found a clinic near our home even.  But nothing. As of yet. He was supposed to get a vasectomy about 6 years ago too.

Literally, I could crash right now.  I could fall asleep for a long nap. But I won't. Because I have a kid to pick up, an appointment to take her to and I feel like a nimrod when I nap.

Now you may be asking if I know that I snore.  Yes, I do. I've snored since I was 14 years old and the mother person thought it was a great idea for me to get a nose job. I have so much scar tissue up my schnozz that, yes, I do indeed snore.  The difference is, my snoring does not make my husband insane and want to torture me. Nor does it make him leave the comfort of the bed to go sleep on the sofa.

So, today I end this blog post with my big. fat, wrinkled and eye-bagged face begging for some sleep soon.  One night. Just one night of straight sleep.  I'm getting bored of the idiotic informercials on in the middle of the night.  And it's becoming annoying to know the 'news' of the day before everyone else.

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