It baffles me and angers me at the same time. My husband and I are tucked in bed. He scrolls through his Facebook newsfeed as do I. After around 10 minutes, we turn our iPads off, kiss each other goodnight, and prepare to sleep.
That’s where it all changes. While I am still making mental notes about what I am going to wear in the morning, I hear a faint snore. It doesn’t even astonish me anymore, but I still turn around to check. Yup, peaceful as a baby; my husband is always asleep way before I am.
It’s like every night he tries to race me and humiliates me with the low hum of his snoring not even five minutes into the competition — and it’s not that I don’t try to beat him. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and force my brain to just think “black.” I stay cocooned in one position and try to relax. Yes, I make a conscious effort. While I’m trying my darndest to enter slumberland, my husband is asleep!
How does he do it? Why can’t I do it?
When I asked him how he bags the zzzs so fast, he said, “It’s simple. I just think about cars, and I am in my happy place.”
I suppose I could try it. I’d probably be so bored that I wouldn’t even have to try to fall asleep.
Fact of the matter is that it makes no difference as to how hard I try; I just can’t switch my brain off. At some point during my active perusal of thinking “black” my mind subconsciously drifts towards what I will cook tomorrow. Then I think about and the catty comment my aunt’s nephew’s son posted on a picture I put up on Facebook and then I think of a million ways to respond to him. When I’m done, I imagine running into him on the street and mentally prepare the cool and calm encounter I’ll have with him. Of course I’ll exit with a catty comment of my own.
“Think black, think black,” my brain abruptly reprimands me. Yes of course, I forgot about the black.
Right then, my husband let’s out an ear-splitting snore. It’s as if he’s mocking me. Exasperated and now even stressed, I squeeze my eyes shut again.
Um, now I’m thirsty.
I try to ignore the thirst that has dried out my tongue as if I’ve been traveling under the desert sun for hours, but it’s no use. I sigh and get up for a glass of water because if I don’t, there’s really no way I can focus on thinking “black.”
Back in bed and now content, I can refocus on sleeping again.
It’s working! My brain is blank. I’ll soon be joining my husband, defeated, but not beaten yet! My breathing gets heavier and my brain lighter — just then, my bladder perks up and reminds me about the glass of water I just downed. It’s really a no-win situation.
I head to the bathroom and prepare to be defeated again the next night, and the next, and the next.
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