The husband is snoring like a chainsaw on idle, and although I keep hissing "quit snoring", it doesn't seem to be doing much to help my cause. I've pushed him, thinking that he's lying on his back, because usually he lets up a bit if he's on his side - but he's actually already on his side. That means I'm really in trouble.
So why not just roll over, bite my lip, and try to tune him out you ask? Well first off, I'm not so hot in the patience department, and second, that's what I've been trying to do for about 2 hours.
Then why not go crawl into the spare bedroom bed or kick him out like I would usually do? Well tonight his friend Mike is staying with us; alas, there is no "spare bed".
In the middle of my huffy exit from the bedroom I whispered "enjoy the next hour or so Chris, because after that it's my turn to sleep" as a sort of threat, which was answered with a loud snort. Rotter.
To add to the annoyance of my chainsaw husband, there is a pathetic attempt at a storm going on outside. The lightning is flashing about every 3 seconds, and there is the occasional low rumble of thunder and weak smattering of rain on the window, but really it's a pretty lame storm.
I actually sleep fantastic in a really wild storm, so I'm hoping it gets over itself pretty soon and really lets it rip. At least maybe the bang of thunder and steady pulse of hard rain on the window might drown out the husband.
Wish me luck...or maybe, wish my co-workers luck for the work day if I don't get any more sleep tonight.
P.S. The term "rotter" is used with thanks to my dear friend John. However, in this instance it is not used like a "term of endearment" but rather muttered under my breath in a low, menacing tone.