Even on those rare nights when I manage to hit the pillow at a reasonable hour, sleep is nowhere in sight. This is when my mind decides it’s prime time to replay the day’s events, all the things I didn’t finish, and everything on my to-do list for tomorrow.
Let’s ponder the laundry! my brain chimes in, suddenly buzzing with energy despite my exhaustion since dinner. Oh, and the mortgage! And the kids’ school play. What about the weather? The grocery list? That Pinterest recipe? That article someone shared on your social media? And let’s not forget that brief fling you had in eighth grade with the girl who had the big hair! The thoughts are relentless!
Meanwhile, my husband, blissfully asleep next to me, has no idea of my mental chaos. The moment his head hits the pillow, he’s out cold. I often wonder when he finds time to think—perhaps during his long bathroom breaks?—because it certainly isn’t when he’s going to bed. His eyes close, and he’s like a light switch flipped to “off.”
I know it’s not his fault, but a twinge of jealousy creeps in. What I wouldn’t give to slip into slumber as easily as he does (in his cozy slippers, of course!). He works hard, and I don’t begrudge him his peaceful rest. It’s not the fact that he falls asleep that drives me to the brink; it’s the insufferable snoring that follows—loud and unyielding—every single night.
Falling asleep with racing thoughts is tough enough, but throw in a symphony of grunts, wheezes, and rumbles just inches away, and it’s nearly impossible. He has an impressive repertoire of snores, each more creative than the last—the “Rusty Chainsaw on a Sugar Rush,” the “Vibrating Massager Running Out of Juice,” the “Asthmatic Darth Vader,” and my personal favorite, the “Dejected Bumblebee.” Honestly, I might even find it amusing if it weren’t the most maddening sound in the universe.
I start off trying to ignore it, reasoning that he can’t help it; he’s completely oblivious to the fact that he sounds like he’s auditioning to inhale the curtains. But getting cozy enough to drift off next to a wheezing wind tunnel is as futile as trying to brush my teeth with crushed Oreos. Each night, I cling to the hope that I’ll somehow find sleep amidst the cacophony of XXXNNNNRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHH, but alas, it never works.
My first line of defense is a gentle poke with my finger, accompanied by an almost apologetic whisper, “Hey, you’re snoring.” If I’m lucky, he’ll stir enough to shift positions. But that’s like winning the lottery—only happens once in a blue moon. Most of the time, my poke is as ineffective as tossing a beanbag at a burglar.
Lying there with my eyes shut tight, I take deep breaths, attempting to reach a zen-like state that will somehow rise above my irritation. But the annoyance bubbles up like a pot about to boil over. The polite poke transforms into a firm nudge, and now I’m hissing, “You’re snoring!”
The trouble with snorers is they tend to be heavy sleepers. So while the nudge is an upgrade, it still often fails to wake him. I try to keep my cool, reminding myself that I’m in control! I can rise above this! I focus on other sounds—the fan, the rustling leaves outside, even my own breathing. I attempt to drown it all out with calming music through earbuds.
But none of it can compete with Sir Snnnnxxxxkkkhhh-a-Lot. My annoyance morphs into full-blown frustration. The tranquility I was aiming for flies out the window as I mentally catalog the nearest dirty sock, imagining the creative ways I’d use it to silence the relentless noise.
Instead, I muster a well-placed shove and let out an exasperated groan: “You’re snoring!” That typically does the trick.
“Geez,” he grumbles, turning over with a sleepy frown. “Why so hostile?”
As the welcome sound of silence fills the room, my anger dissipates. I can finally start to relax, and as I sink into the comforting quiet, my eyes grow heavy as I drift off to much-needed sleep. Until……skkkknnnnnnggghhhhhhhh.
Tomorrow night, I’m keeping that dirty sock handy.
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Summary:
This humorous piece explores the frustrations of trying to sleep next to a snoring spouse. It captures the internal monologue of a partner who wrestles with their own racing thoughts while dealing with the cacophony of nightly snores. Despite moments of annoyance and creative fantasies about silencing the noise, the article ultimately highlights the love and acceptance that come with sharing a life—and a bed—with someone who snores.