On snoring

A nasty thing to do, but not all of us can control the fact that we snore. Personally, I would prefer to not snore, pass the night in total, sepulchral silence. Because the night is for total, blackout silence. Maybe a cricket, maybe a ticking grandfather clock, maybe the creaking of centenary Victorian home. No one should get up in the night. Snoring is an interruption in the peace of the night. Snoring is non-lineal, unpredictable, chaotic, torturous. If sleep and rest are about restoration and redemption, how can snoring be anything but trouble? I have startled myself awake from snoring too loudly. Luckily, this has only happened once or twice. My snoring is annoying, but it’s not consistent. Many nights I pass quietly in the arms of the sleep angels who watch over this simulacrum of death that we call sleep. Snoring is an ironic and bitter development that interrupts that sweet rest which restores and rebuilds after a hard day at work, or just a had day. Given the right circumstances, we all snore: a cold, allergies, to many drinks, too tired, crabby. So this is the dilemma: who sleeps on the sofa? Snorer or snoree? If the paint is coming off of the ceiling, or the wallpaper is pealing, perhaps the snorer should be encouraged to seek refuge in another room and leave the poor suffering victim to enjoy the bed alone, especially if earplugs are not an option.