I’m going through one of my occasional bouts of insomnia.  This happens to me every six months or so, I have about a week-long period where my sleep is for crap.  This time it’s made worse by the fact that N’s CPAP machine seems to be having issues.  Whether it’s due to his recent weight-loss or what, I do not know, but he isn’t getting a good seal so the air leaks out of the mask and with the continuous sound of wooshing air, it’s like sleeping in a damn wind tunnel.  There are simply not words to convey how irritating this is in the middle of the night. 

Me:  [sound asleep, 3 a.m.]  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

N:  [sound asleep, blissfully unaware]  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh

Me:  [wide awake]  GOD.  NO.  NOT AGAIN.

N:  [silence]

Me:  [dozing off]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [reaching over, adjusting mask]  YOU ARE WOOSHING.  SHUT UP.

N:  [silence]

Me:  [dozing off]  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [covering head with pillow while cursing decision to get married in the first place]

You get the idea.  This has been going on every. single. night for the last month or so, and it is incredibly frustrating.  On the one hand, I can’t get too mad at N.  It isn’t his fault, it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose.  (At least I don’t think he is.)  On the other hand, HE sleeps like the EFFING DEAD, so if the situations were reversed he certainly wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it. 

And while I’m on the subject, in over 8 years of marriage I have yet to figure out a way to wake the man without scaring the shit out of him.  Case in point:

Scene:  Our couch, 8:59 p.m., Tuesday night.  Kids are in bed.  N is sound asleep, sitting up.  I come and plop next to him because it’s time for one of the few TV shows that we actually watch together.

Me:  Honey.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  N.  HONEY.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  [patting his leg]  Honey.  Time to wake up, it’s about to come on.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  N?  Are you dead?  Because you haven’t moved.  [shaking his shoulder]  N!  Wake up, dammit!

N:  [jumping a mile then staring like a deer in the headlights]

Me:  N?  Hello!

N:  [staring blankly]

Me:  Hello.  I am your wife, this is our living room, and it is time for Sons of Anarchy.

N:  [continuing to stare blankly]

Me:  For God’s sake, man.  Wake up.

N:  [blinks]

GOOD LORD.  I have never seen anything quite like it.  It’s actually quite an amazing ability.  He can fall asleep at the drop of a hat, anytime, anywhere (something I actually envy a great deal, as it takes a very specific set of circumstances for me to doze off), and once he’s asleep nothing bothers him.  Ever.  Not the sound of an alarm, or a child’s loud “whisper” directly in his ear, or the tinny cry of a baby over a monitor that is turned up too loud.  Not even the nearby pacing of a 60-pound greyhound with plant-wilting breath disturbs his slumber in the slightest.

Advantageous for him, not so much for our children if I’m not around and there’s a fire in the middle of the night.  Or, you know, if they need to be on time for something.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  It’s time to get up.  Your daughter is awake, and I need to get ready for work.  [gently patting his leg]

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  Honey, PLEASE.  [patting his arm, less gently]  Wake up.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  GET.  UP.  [poking him in the shoulder]

N:  [gasping and sitting straight up as though poked with a hot branding iron instead of my finger]  What?!?!  Jeez, why can’t you just say ‘wake up’ instead of scaring me like that?

Sigh.