When I was in Seattle this past April, I woke up one morning with a worrisome thought. As we sat on our hotel beds watching the early morning Seattle news, I looked over at my mother and asked, “Mom, will anyone ever love me?”
My mother’s heard this song a million times. “Of course,” she replied, her voice filled with the maternal assurance that she’s developed over 35 years of mothering.
“Will anyone ever love me even though I snore?”
Same song, different verse.
My mom looked down at the ear plugs on the nightstand that separated our beds and said, “Sure.”
Yep, that was reassuring.
Yep, that was reassuring.
I snore. And not like the snoring when you think, aww, that’s kinda cute. Nope. My snoring has been described as sounding a lot like a foghorn. It’s enough to scare small children and sweet old ladies and, if I ever fell asleep in a cemetery, my snoring might even wake the dead. I’ve actually never heard myself snore – is that even possible? I don’t know, I take my hearing aid out when I sleep so if I’m noisy, I don’t hear myself. See, there are some perks to being hearing impaired. That said, I have heard my brother snore…and if I sound anything like him, well, I’m in trouble. I was staying at his house one night, sleeping on the couch in his living room. When I woke up the next morning, I heard this awful motor sound that seemed to be shaking the house. I thought his heater was about to explode or something. I used my superhero investigative powers to figure out where the sound was coming from…turns out, it was coming from the second floor where my brother was sound asleep, snoring away.
It’s something that I worry about. I mean, I don’t lie awake at night worrying about it – because I’m too busy snoring – but I do worry a little. Like, what if I finally meet Mr. Right Cowboy and he comes home after a long day on the range and makes us dinner and then wants to grab some shut-eye. But he can’t get any sleep because I’m, you know, snoring. When do couples start talking about these kinds of things? On the first date? Date 10? Date 25? Maybe I’m stressing about it too much.
Why am I stressing about it? Well, because I’m going to BlogHer this week and I’m sharing a hotel room with another blogger. We work together but don’t know each other super well, I mean we can ride the elevator together without that weird awkward elevator silence but if I had to put her in one of my Google+ circles, it would either be in Work People, Acquaintances, Friends of Friends, Bloggers…gosh, I need to re-evaluate my circles. Anyway, we’re sharing a room and I’m a little nervous that a) she won’t get any sleep for the four nights we’re in San Diego because I snore; b) I won’t get any sleep for the four nights we’re in San Diego because I’ll try to stay awake all four nights just so I don’t disturb her; c) I’ll meet Mr. Right Sailor (since I don’t think cowboys are hanging out in San Diego) and…yeah, well, it’s a long-shot so I won’t even worry about c.
Oh well. Maybe I should just stop worrying altogether. I mean there are worse things than snoring, right? Like…morning breath.
Oh geez. Don’t even get me started worrying about my morning breath.
Stay tuned to read about my adventures at BlogHer 2011. And to find out if my snoring keeps 3,000 conference attendees awake!