Have I ever told you about what a terrible sleeper I am? I don’t mean terrible as in I don’t get any sleep. I have no problem sleeping. It’s actually a great talent of mine. What I mean by terrible is that I’m an embarrassing, loud sleeper. Also, not cute. And as soon as I start to fall asleep my mouth hangs open and the snoring begins. It’s a mix of something between a grizzly bear and a pug with a cold.
My sleep habits are so bad that I actually live in fear of falling asleep in public places. No one wants to see a girl sleeping on a train with her mouth hanging open. No one wants to sit next to someone on a plane while they snore louder than the jet engines, including me.
When I fall asleep, I fall asleep hard. Good luck trying to wake me up without me being mean to you.
I’m not actually sure how many embarrassing pictures exist of me sleeping, but I know there’s a lot.
The one on the train. The one (or more) on the plane. The one where my friends put food on my face when we were teenagers because I fell asleep first. The one where I fell asleep in a sushi restaurant and the chef thought it was so funny, he came out to take a picture with me. The one where I fell asleep with my kindle ON MY FACE while engulfed in a book, which resulted in a smashed nose and triple chin. I made Dan delete that one because it’s probably the most embarrassing picture I’ve ever seen of myself. Yes, worse than the sushi pass out.
Etc. Etc. Etc.
There are so many bad pictures of me sleeping out in the world (many of them I’m 100% sober) that one day I might just assume a different identity so as not to have to deal with them ever again.
My husband on the other hand, falls asleep like this.
I knew I was gong to marry him when I asked him if my snoring bothered him one time and he lovingly replied, “It’s rhythmic. It puts me to sleep.” He was lying. But it was a much better reply than wanting to smother me with a pillow or sleeping in the other room like boyfriends past.