He’s been a bad snorer all of our relationship time together. It mostly doesn’t bother me much and, on the rare occasion it coincides with my insomnia, a swift thump to the ribs does wonders to alleviate my irritation, regardless of whether it stops the snoring or not.
I’ve always maintained that if you are tired enough then you will sleep, no matter what noise around you. (This theory was postulated in Copenhagen twenty seven years ago when not only did I sleep through the giant rave party five feet from my tent, but also a Faro Islander male type person (this is a distinction, apparently) climbing into my sleeping bag with me, obviously under the impression that my rhythmic breathing actually meant “Take me now, baby!. I woke up approximately at second base and my instinctive kneejerk reaction was literally that, so all was well, but damn, I must have been tired).
So his snoring isn’t really a problem to me personally but he’s coming away on tour with me. A camping tour where tents are in close proximity to each other. I really don’t mind that much if he snores but my last camping trip cemented home the fact that snoring is a polarizing issue. The tents are generally in close proximity to each other and habitation is randomly selected each night, so that dreadful night-time snorers/walkers/those of dubious bladder strength aren’t always next to each other.
People bitch a lot about night-time noise. However, the random number assignment means that I can totally shrug off the complaints, using logic! And probability! And statistics! And bell curve charts, if they are misguided enough to whinge! Luck of the draw, baby, and you’d be thrilled with those odds in Vegas!
So disturbed sleep is to be expected and I really don’t care but what I do care about is my passengers associating my husband with me. He has no idea of how disliked he will be and I don’t want to shoulder one iota of the blame. Hence, I’ve bought these little nasal strips meant to go across his nose and open it up for wonderful clear air passages. I’ve located a chinstrap (which gives him a rather scary Hannibal Lecter sort of vibe). I’ve also bought an industrial sized jar full to the brim with foam earplugs and I’ve suggested that he hand these out liberally to fellow passengers, with a pre-emptive apology note attached. Or possibly a five dollar bill.
Damn. Night before the tour. Can’t sleep and really nervous. Wouldn’t be if I was going out with my regular partner but I’m working with my boss. Uggh.