Do You Sleep Incorrectly?
Well, do you? Good question isn’t it? I mean, just exactly how would you know if your execution of the act of sleeping was being performed incorrectly? I can assure you there are teams of doctors out there ready and able to assist you with this if you’re intensely curious.
There are some symptoms that you might display if you’re one of the tens of people in this country who can’t quite get all their shit into one sock and knock off each night. The list is pretty long, but the obvious ones involve a funny painful feeling behind your nose every morning, epic grogginess, and unexplained bruising along one side of your body, normally the size and shape of the baseball bat your spouse keeps on his/her side of the bed.
Clearly what I’m tap dancing around here is snoring, and if you recall one of my earlier posts you know my issue with this affliction is epic enough for the government to intervene before I modify the orbit of the Moon any further. For newcomers and those with ADD who must click something now, read it here. At any rate, the intervention is now in progress, and the process is interesting so far.
Last night I got the unalloyed joy of sleeping through a Sleep Study. No cramming required here, because they were studying me. Yeah, scary. The most awesome part of this experience were all the electrodes glued to my shiny melon that made me feel like a fatter, older, uglier, better-endowed and smarter body-double for Keanu Reeves in The Matrix. I know, awesome overload. Sit down if you feel the need. But I was seriously wired into a table full of machines the function of which escaped me. I felt like a chimpanzee trying to comprehend a wristwatch. Nor could I recall what color pill I’d picked.
Anyway, once wired for sound, Rick the Technician gave me strict, precise instructions for my part in this test: “Go to sleep, dude.” Luckily for all involved, I was tired. The creepy part of the experience was the infrared camera, helpfully pointed out by Rick, that would record everything I did in my sleep, to include sounds. I am sure by now there are exerpts posted on YouTube. I have no interest in viewing them. Some of you may want to scratch your twisted obsessions’ itch, though, so feel free.
Morning came and the electrodes and strapping came off. I endured this as patiently as anyone who doesn’t like another man standing that close to them in the morning can. Actually that would freak me out any time of the day, but that’s a different post. I washed the electrode glue off my head and put my uniform back on, which I wore because I can put my Garanimals on myself without help. The official result of the test was pretty clear…
I fucking sleep incorrectly. More precisely, I do in fact snore more loudly than Satan’s rusty chain saw, and when not putting him to shame á la Charlie Daniels, I am suffocating myself in some kind of tongue maneuver involving licking the inside of my own stomach. This explains the taste in my mouth every morning. Yes, even this disgusts me, but Rick mentioned that as a heavy porn connoisseur (him, not me, people. Focus!), I likely have a future in that industry if I ever get bored with this Army thing.
Guess I’ll keep that mental post it handy since this Afghanistan thing pretty much tanks the astronaut bid.