This was totally not my fault. The couch is waaaay too comfortable.
Well, actually it's a bit my fault. When going out to eat, one drink and I'm usually fine. Two drinks, and I've tended to get that splotchy thing happening (also known as the Asian Flush). Invariably, it makes me sleepy and I just conk out on the couch.
While at dinner, I ignored Liz's warnings and had a glass of wine (in addition to my martini). So in some ways, it's a little my fault.
Ok, ok. Fine. it's all my fault.
I was debating whether or not I wanted to post this... but in watching it, it's just way too funny NOT to post. For its sheer entertainment value, I'm willing to sacrifice myself for the greater good.
According to Liz, this video is right when I first fell asleep. Apparently, the REAL snoring didn't kick in until maybe 10 minutes later. So think of this as a prelude to some serious wall-rattling snores which, I can only guess, will one day be secretly captured... and posted for all to see. :D
Related:
Overnight Sleep Study, Northwestern
Seeing a Side of Me I've Never Seen Before: Visiting the Ear/Nose/Throat Doc
CPAP Machine and Mask (aka "The Vader Trainer")
Don't you have a snoring poem? Do share.
Snoring Dogs
by Felix Jung
In my dreams I am my own
locomotive, rumbling over
mountain peaks; every hinge
and wheel of me trembles
with this quaking. I am
the earth in its anger,
the grinding of continents.
Who needs a dog for security,
when I have this thing rattling
the bars of my ribs each time
the moon awakens?
I am the night’s rusty
engine, my body sounding
just to hear its own motor
groan. In dreams,
I say the hundred
thousand words I stored
throughout the day, each one
a pebble in the canyon
of my chest, each lengthy drawl
a song I didn’t sing.
My father, the strongest dog
I know, can shake the windows
with his sound, send his voice
barreling out beyond the corridors
and rooms. The burst of him
thunders past the lawn, climbs
the bark of trees, throttling
every fledgling into screams.
Like him I keep, with every
breath of day, a splinter
of air and lock it down.
While the world hums
and swims its sleep,
the two of us, heavy
with our languages, open
the cavern of our mouths,
bare our teeth and howl
each other’s name.