It's funny. What relaxes one person, may make another person completely agitated. For example, as I sit here typing away, Matt has fallen into a deep slumber brought on by the Native American Spiritual Chants he insist on listening to each night. I've mentioned my distaste for this music several times, and I make great effort to show my displeasure by flip-flopping in bed like a fish out of water, but I don't think he gets it. He thinks I'm being overly dramatic. And to that I say "Whateva!" So, once I hear him sawing logs, I sneak and turn off the music. Nature sounds are fine. I love the sounds of waves crashing or thunderstorms, but an eerie whistling flute just doesn't do it for me. There was a time when I could sleep soundly with the television on. In fact, I preferred it, but not any more. I find that I can go to sleep with it on just fine, but then right around 2:00 AM I awake to find the volume level so incredibly high that I can't move or think fast enough to find the remote. I have this moment of panic, like maybe my eardrums might rupture or something worse- what, I'm not sure- but bad. My preferred sleeping conditions are as follows- no light, no music, no television, a ceiling fan for cooling the room, a floor fan for creating a wonderful dull hum. Our queen size bed does not lend itself for the kind of sprawling I yearn for, but I do my best. The other night Matt and I coined a new term "mooning." We often try spooning, but I get fidgety. I have a toe bending thing. Weird- I know. Anyways, one of us always ends up turning the opposite direction, leaving us bottom to bottom. This is mooning. Not nearly as intimate as spooning, but touching nonetheless. Well, all this talk of sleep has got me feeling a little drowsy. I think it is time to turn off the music and turn on the floor fan. Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite!
This one's for you, Matt. Enjoy!