Wait a minute – Moon, Spoon, June: bliss?
Last May, Shelia rolled her eyes and said that living with Richard was bliss-perfection-more wonderful than she had imagined.
Except for that one flaw. Flaw? Mr. Wonderful? Mr. tall, dark, handsome, highly successful and happy Richard? She whispered, “He snores. A little like a small water buffalo.”
How bad was it? Move to another bedroom bad or just earplugs and Ambien bad? She was discreet in all their affairs, and merely waved her hand and tsk-ed, “Oh, not that bad.”
Flash forward to now-and Shelia is no longer fluffing this one off.
She has dark circles under her eyes and the Bobbi Brown concealer barely hides them. And she will quietly share she just had the first good night’s sleep in weeks, because Richard had gone to a meeting in Portland. She reveled in the nocturnal silence. She thought about taping “The Quietude of the Boudoir” as a meditation tape she could play back with her Bose headphones when Richard returned. She dismissed the idea as silly, but the night before he returned-she turned on her tape player to record three hours of white noise and pure silence. The next morning, she tucked it away in the bedside table.
Richard’s return was highly anticipated. She shopped, prepped, and cooked his favorite meal to eat by candlelight, accompanied by Miles Davis and Keith Jarrett on their cool, old, record player. He was clearly exhausted. He had a three-hour delay in San Francisco, missed an airline connection and was beat. After dinner, they retired to the bedroom – within minutes he was out and snoring.
For Shelia, the week of silence had been purely intoxicating and was now a distant memory as the cacophony of snorts, airbursts and coughs punctuated the night.
Aha! The tape! Proud of her white-noise-invention, she found her Bose headphones and the mini-tape player and placed them on her side of the bed. She cleansed, toned, moisturized, and climbed into bed next to her amore as he belted raucous snores. Blissfully, she listened to her newly created, perfect, white noise tape. She could barely hear the muffled rustling of her satin duvet. As she was relaxing into silence, she heard a strange noise.
Something was wrong with the tape. It must be flawed. She heard a rush of air and a soft wheezing sound. The machine must be broken. Then she heard the pattern again. Louder. Snoring! Had she taped Richard and forgotten?
No, as she listened to the shocking snorting noise, she sadly discovered she, too, snored. Softly – but, she had a small problem. She hesitated to admit what was staring at her full on.
She would erase the tape in the morning and head off to Whole Foods store for Melatonin.