The Alpha Blonde


This article was written on 28 Mar 2013, and is filled under Uncategorized.

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When the universe conspires against my good-night’s sleep and how I fight back.

I’m a stupid light sleeper.  It’s decidedly dumb how easy it is to wake me up and keep me up all night long, so I’ve had to develop some strategies to combat the multifaceted problem.  I’m sharing them now because, well, it’s 3:30 and they’re all assailing me at once.


The cats’ meow.

Lately Pokey, my beloved creature, has become and asshole.  We got him a friend- Carla Tortelli, and since she came on the scene instead of sleeping at my feet like a good cat who appreciates food and clean litter he’s been meowing late at night trying to get my attention. He’s no Lassie and I’m fairly certain he’s not conveying an urgent message. Probably more along the lines of “Hey, I want to drink out of the toilet because the fresh water you put out for me isn’t delicious enough”, so I’m not buying in.  Solution: The Noah.  The Noah is a piece of, for lack of a better word, Art. It’s bigger than some very small cars and it looks like the main medium is toothpaste, the only thing intelligible on the beast is a very large maroon “NOAH” scrawled across the bottom.  It’s amazing on it’s own, but it also acts as a hallway barricade.  If Pokey wants to make noise with The Noah in place he can do it from far, far away.

The wind in the willows.

My house is old and weird.  Weirder still is that on windy nights branches that I can’t find to be able to trim scrape against my roof or windows of something creating this fingernails/chalkboard situation all night.  The only solution is orange earplugs that you’d use in an industrial shop situation.

A cock crows three times before dawn.

It’s Holy Week, that’s the best/worst I can do.  Anyway, we have feral roosters.  Yes, feral.  The whole neighborhood is plagued by these feathered demons that sleep in our trees and poop on our porches.  And they all get each other going, if one crows all 10-15 around the block holla back for a good 10 minutes per round before they all go silent again.  I hate them. This solution is harder, because as a vegan I’m supposed to be a touchy feely animal lover at the core right?  Let me illuminate the dire situation I’m in so you fully understand how desperate I am in the middle of sleep to have them gone- i would eat them right now if rooster noodle soup was a thing and I hadn’t seen them eating the cat food which I know has chicken flavoring in it.  Gross.  Again, the orange ear plugs to the rescue.

The noisy bedmate.

My significant other is a mouth-breather.  All night long it’s snoring or noisy noisy inhale-exhale-inhale-exhale.  In this situation it’s not just noise though.  I’m a total freak and breath weirds me out.  It was just in someone, and now it’s in my airspace going into me.  Normally this issue only crops up with smokers when I can see them exhale, smell their exhalations and know it’s somehow invading my body.  No, it’s not the whole carcinogenic secondhand smoke factor, I am genuinely creeped out by knowing that smoke just touched their lungs, dude.  Late at night when Chuck breathes, even though I love that he is, in fact, breathing, the same train of thought takes over my head.  Especially when he’s turned toward me and I can feel it.  I don’t mind his breath, I know where his lungs have been, but it does serve as a reminder that I’m constantly breathing in everyone else’s grossness.  Also, it reminds me that I am crazy and I probably need a therapist.  For this, I play soothing new-agey sounds from an app on my phone and hope I can just get lost in the rhythms of the music and stop dwelling on mouth breathing.

The running mind.

Nothing keeps me awake more often than my own brain training for a marathon.  It just keeps mulling over the same old symphony of “Money, work, food, bills, money, Hanson, money, roosters, breath.”  It sucks. The only way to combat this is by blogging. Sorry about that, and I hope you all have sweet dreams for me.

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