Snore Wars

There comes a point where you get sick of being sick. The time frame to reach that point varies, but, certainly, once you hit the two week mark you’re there.

It started as a cold.

You know the kind, a little scratch in the throat, a few dozen Kleenex in the trash, but tame enough where you debate whether or not it’s even necessary to pop a Nyquil. Then the thing got some experience, abandoned its weaker powers for new ones and evolved into a more powerful form. It was like a sick and twisted Pokemon.

The first evolution was into the Demon Cold From Hell. I tried to come up with a descriptor that was less hyperbolic while still summing up the totality of my awful experience, but I failed. I didn’t leave the couch for three days unless it was absolutely necessary. When the Broncos suffered the worst loss I’ve ever seen a professional sports team I cared about have inflicted upon them I didn’t even have the energy to bitch about the game on Twitter much less riot in the streets.

I would lie absolutely still for hours – except for my thumbs which maneuvered a character up, down, and all around the world of Skyrim when I wasn’t watching the Broncos rip my city’s heart out. I started to count Kleenex by the box rather than by the dozen. When my doctor opened up on Monday I was prescribed Super Tussin and I limped through two more days of work before the next evolution.

That evolution I affectionately call Demon Sinus Infection From Hell. This form was highlighted by the things exploding out of my nose matching the color palette used in a certain scene from the Exorcist. If you’re not sure which scene I’m referencing just think ‘pea soup’ and you’ll get the gist. People I barely knew would say nice things to me like, “oh, god, are you okay?” Or, “I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you look awful.” Or, “are you contagious?  If you are can you please stand over there…”

I was determined to grind it out with the aid of Super Tussin, but my wife ambushed me intervention style, took me back to the doctor, and got me on antibiotics. Eventually they worked. In the meantime I got my wife sick, which sucks, but all the normal problems that come from one person being sick get compounded when it’s two sick people and seemingly minor symptoms take over your lives. See, sinus infections create something we’ll charmingly refer to as ‘gunk’. This gunk is easily disposed of during the day as long as you either keep a large supply of Kleenex handy, or as long as you don’t mind rubbing your nose against your dog’s soft, soft fur when the Kleenex box is out of arms reach. At night there’s not really any place for the gunk to go, so, well, it clogs up your nose. Which causes snoring. Which leads to Snore Wars.

It’s like a reverse game of chicken. The first person to get to sleep gets to sleep. The unlucky person who falls asleep second gets to spend the night listening to the other person snore. But here’s the kicker – I knew and she knew that we were both in a high stakes race which got the adrenaline flowing, which made it harder to fall asleep, which made it more likely that I lost, which made me think about how I couldn’t fall asleep, which made it harder to fall asleep, which made it more likely that I lost.

If it’s not your night you know when you’ve lost and then you stop worrying about why you can’t fall asleep and then your mind wanders. The following thoughts dominated my mind at night for about a week when I lost Snore Wars:

How can a professional athlete who has spent their entire life playing,   say, defensive back not understand the parabolic motion of a football in the air?

Related to this… is it okay to send hate tweets to said professional athlete or is that just a shitty thing to do? Are tweets explaining Newton’s laws of gravity okay?

How can a three million dollar a year kicker kick the ground instead of the ball in a playoff game? Seriously. I’ve never even seen that crap in a high school game

Is it just a good idea to stay off Twitter for a week after this kind of football game?

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck did chuck wood?

Why is everybody on Reddit all of a sudden making sloth references?

Upon further reflection it has to be because of this article

What time is it?

Is the dog snoring also? Really?

Do sloths snore?

And, eventually, at some point exhaustion would kick in and I could get some sleep.

Then the alarm would go off.

Then the next night I would win Snore Wars and ruin her night. But, like any other war there really is no winner. Everybody loses Snore Wars, except the dog. He didn’t seem to give a damn.


One Comment on Snore Wars

  1. My Half Assed Life on Fri, 25th Jan 2013 12:15 pm
  2. What is it with those sloths?

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