It’s finally happening. People all over are starting to come around to my way of thinking, well, at least on this one issue…but, it’s a start. It’s taken some time but finally couples are starting to see the benefits of sleeping alone…GASP!
A 2011 poll by the National Sleep Foundation found 11% of married or partnered couples don’t share the sheets with their significant other. I know it’s only a low percentage but sign me up because I’m totally on board.
This is no news to my husband (whom for this post I shall refer to as Homer). He knows if we had a room to spare and he agreed to sleeping in separate beds that I’d be all over it like a fat kid on a Smartie…And I just might get my chance, I just have to move to Britain by 2015 because according to the National Association of Homebuilder’s, 60% of new houses there will have “his and her” master bedrooms by then.
I better start planning my move because I’m getting me one of those houses!
Is it wrong to want to sleep alone? It’s not that I’m in a loveless marriage (please don’t send me inquiring emails) I love me some Homey, it’s just that I prefer to have a bed to myself. I have a hard time getting to sleep, my mind is in a constant state of GO!! So, when I fall asleep I like to remain that way. And if for some reason you disturb me, well, let’s just say you better bring protection.
When I was working full time I would be in bed before Homer so I could try and fall asleep before he came to bed, it was my only chance to fall asleep gracefully. Somehow this worked to a degree because if he woke me when he came in with his moving, tossing, gas passing business then I would already kind of be relaxed and had a better chance of falling back asleep.
But now that I don’t have to get up so early, I go to bed later, which means most of the time we are turning in together. This is not working for me. He seems to be doing just fine. Albeit, he has his own issues with sleep but they seldom have anything to do with me.
I settle in with my pillow tucked under my neck, turn on my right side and stare for about fifteen minutes, making sure not to get too close to Homer because I hate to be touched when I’m sleeping. Yes, I have lots of rules. Then, I move onto my back and lie there like a plank of wood and wait for sleep. Just when I’m dozing off, nine times out of ten, Homer clears his throat or does one of his famous double rotations with a twist and startles me awake causing my anxious little heart to race. And the cycle begins again.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame him, I mean I guess he can move if he wants to but it’s very disturbing.
Lately though, well, two times this week he has taken his life in his hands by waking me up because apparently I’ve been snoring; I must add here that I never snore, but Homer has been known to let a few lose after a night with Bud Light. I know he’s getting a little of his own medicine by having to deal with this interruption and that should be satisfying but somehow it’s overshadowed by knowing that I’m snoring and not lying peacefully like Snow White. Snoring is so not sexy.
The kicker to all this is those two nights when he woke me, I was having the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. So you see, if we could agree to sleep in different rooms (with mandatory options for midnight visits) we could snore, flip, fart and scratch our way into a better night’s sleep. We would wake up refreshed and ready to tackle another day with possibly enough energy left over for a “conjugal visit” before retiring.
Your room or mine?