Can physical violence be the answer, sometimes? Please?!

I've been with my husband for a total of 8 years this March. We've been married for almost five. Through those five years we shared the same bed for 3.5 months. That is all. I'm a light sleeper and somehow my husband seems to get kazoos lodged in his nasal cavity each and every night. At first all my friends told me to "just hang in there." "You'll be used to it in no time." "Pretty soon you won't be able to sleep WITHOUT his racket."

I call bullshit.

I made it 14 weeks. The longest 14 weeks of sleep deprivation in my life. I gave up and moved into my own, separate bedroom.

That, ladies and gentleman, saved our marriage.

And kept me from getting locked up on homicide charges.

Sunday I pulled a little trick out of my hat and surprised husband with a room that was off the heezey.

The Anniversary Inn has an awesome room called "Jesse James hideout". It's the balls.

Big screen TV, in-room pool table, 2 person jetted jacuzzi, table and chairs with Ice buckets for your booze and a bed so tall you have to take the stairs to get on it.

It's the kind of room people have sex everywhere EXCEPT the bed.

We stayed in our room for nearly 24 hours. Check in was at 3 and check out wasn't until noon.

Things were going swimmingly.

Until I wanted sleep.

Husband was watching sports center and I had drifted off into a peaceful slumber. Suddenly the lull of the TV in the background was replaced with what can only be described as a catastrophic symphony of bullhorns, kazoos and those little recorders you get when you're in like, 3rd grade, to play Mary had little lamb. Yeah. THOSE.

Due to our romantic night in, I thought a slap on the head and a "shut the hell up" would really take away from it all.

So, Instead of slapping, I gently nudged him. He stopped.

For one minute.

The night continued with his indescribable snoring.

Seriously, It's like, nothing you've ever heard before. Trust me.

It's 3 am. I hadn't gotten much sleep from the night before.

I'm freaking nutty balls tired.

I've got earplugs jammed so far down my ear holes that they're starting to ache.

I'm tiredly searching for any solution for sleep:

My god.

Seriously?!

Can he NOT hear himself?

This sucks.

There's lots of extra pillows, I could probably make a bed in the Jacuzzi.

Bathroom floor?

I did NOT spend this kinda cash on a room to sleep on the bathroom floor.

This bed is freakishly high, Maybe I could sleep under the bed.

Does sound rise?

No, It's not heat you retard.

Damn.

What else could I jam into my ear canals?

Is this worth going deaf over?

I could deal with being deaf.

The deaf girl on heros is pretty cute.

Sharp object to implode my ear drum?

Bottle opener.

No, that'd be messy.

Mother bitch.

I want to hurt him.

By the sweet grace of god, and the wall mounted thermostat fan set on super duper turbo high to drown out the sound of my own personal hell, I was finally able to drift off to sleep and get a few hours of rest under my belt.

Monday we parused around a few shops. Went and had a beer at the White Owl. Ate some lunch and then, my fat ass took permanent residency upon my couch for the remainder of the evening. Husband even left the house for a little bit so I was able to watch all my reality, trash TV in peace, while stuffing my face full of chips and salsa, white chocolate popcorn, pizza and diet root beer and not be judged while doing so.

What?

I needed comfort food to help me cope with werewolves, suicidal deer, no sleep and the bruises on my knees thanks to a certain pool table.

Happy Valentines!

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