I hate that sleep is a requirement.
I think sleeping is a total waste of time. Think of all the amazing things you could learn, read, accomplish, etc., if you didn't have to sleep!
I've always been a night person, but lately my "nights" have turned into a 2am bedtime, which means I'm waking up around 10am, and therefore I'm not finishing up work until 8pm....HA! That's a lie. I usually finish working around midnight. My self-discipline has disappeared. It's so hard to sit in my office and work while Jason and Kim get to have fun all day. I know they'd much rather have jobs, but still! I hear them laughing and see them doing fun things, and I have to sit in my room and read boring crap all day long.
But I digress.
For the last six months or so, I have been tired. No matter how much I sleep, I still feel like I could crawl back into bed and keep sleeping. And Jason, poor Jason, he can hardly sleep at all because my snoring has been getting steadily worse. Yes, I snore. Loudly. I've woken myself up snoring at least three times. Snoring runs in the family, but I've got an edge on them.
Here's the story.
So nine or ten years ago I was dating this fellow named Nick. Nick was not chivalrous nor any form of "gentleman," but I do have to add that at that time I was a rather head-strong, "modern" girl. I firmly believed that girls could and should ask boys out, call boys, and **PLOT POINT! PLOT POINT!** open our own doors.
Ladies, there's a reason girls aren't supposed to do these things. But in the interests of keeping this blog on task, I'll stick to this single point--let your date open the door for you.
I was on a double date with Nick, his friend, and his friend's girlfriend. We had gone to see a movie at our local Edward's Theater...

As we were walking out, I opened the door and turned my face back to the left, assuming Nick would be holding the door behind me. Alas, he wasn't even nearby...and the closing door smacked me in the face. (Here's where I add, just because I want to, that he was having a grand ol' time chatting with his friend and not even paying attention to me, something he regularly did whenever there was someone, anyone, else around that he knew. Once when I pointed this out to him, his reasoning was "Well I see
you all the time and I hardly ever see *insert name of acquaintance here*.")
Door hitting the nose. Ouch. Tears to my eyes. Laughter from Nick and his friends. I said that I probably broke it because it hurt so much, to which Nick replied indignantly, "You didn't break it! If you broke it your nose would be bleeding."
If you're reading this Nick, a nose can be broken and not bleed. The bleeding happens if it's an open break, as in the bone breaks through the skin causing a laceration.
My nose was broken. And the bastard didn't even get me ice.
Most of your nose is cartilage, which means it never stops growing/getting bigger (same with your ears). So today, my nose is even worse than it was that day. It's a pretty badly deviated septum. I had a brain MRI five years ago, and it was pretty comical to see how my nose basically leapt onto the left side of my face. And now, every time I get a sinus headache, it's on the left. If I get a cold, it's on the left. And I can't sleep unless I'm on my left side...probably because I refuse to breathe through my mouth so if I want any oxygen I need to give my right nostril all the help I can. Here's a photo of some deviated septums so you can see what I'm working with.

So I talked to my primary care doctor about my sleeping problems, and she referred me to a pulmonologist, and she ordered a sleep study.
Last night Jason dropped me off at the sleep lab. It was in the basement of a medical office building. I got my own room, and it basically looked like a regular hotel room. Queen sized bed with a plush comforter and two flat pillows. Chair. TV in a cabinet. And there was a big bathroom with a shower. One big difference though--there was a surveillance camera and microphone in the ceiling.
I changed into my jammies, and watched some Project Runway. Then the tech came in to get me wired.
I can't even guess how many electrodes she pasted onto my scalp. (And I'm ever so grateful that the paste didn't pull any hair out with it this morning!) She put an electrode in the middle of my forehead, on my left temple, on my chin, under my chin, and the center of my throat. She hooked me up to a cardiac monitor, which means leads on my chest. She put two leads on each of my legs. Then she put an elastic band around my chest, and another around my belly (to see which muscles I was using to breathe). And she put some nasal prongs on, plus another sensor hanging over my mouth so they could measure my air flow. And finally, she put a pulse oximeter (oxygen level probe thing) onto my finger.
All the wires were hooked to a little box, and she told me that if I had to get up during the night to just say out loud "I need to get up," and wait for her to come and help me. Yeah, I woke up needing to go to the bathroom....but I totally held it.

Here's a photo so you can see what I'm talking about. And this ain't me!!! I wasn't about to ask for a picture of myself all hooked up! I didn't even want to look in the mirror.
So the tech left, and I'm laying in bed trying to sleep when I notice that my finger probe is making my finger tip glow red. Immediately I started doing my E.T. impersonation..."Ooooouuch...E.T. phone home!!" And then I remembered that she could see and hear everything I was doing. Doh!
I eventually fell asleep. I remember waking up a few times, but as soon as I remembered where I was I told my bladder to shut the hell up, and went back to sleep.
I had a dream in the morning that the tech came back in, unhooked everything, and I went home. Such a bummer to wake up, still hooked to everything, and not home yet.
Anyway, when I was finally unplugged I went to the bathroom (and there was much rejoicing, yay!!)...and looked in the mirror. Gross!!! The paste left little craters all over me! It was like I had enormous white zits on my face that had ruptured. And my scalp was itching like mad, but if I tried to scratch it I just got goops of paste all over my finger!
I had told Jason that I would call him when I woke up so he could come pick me up (I can't drive at night unless I want to wreck the car), but there was no signal in my room and my phone had died. So I hurried and got dressed so I could get outside and use my will power to make the phone call Jason...but wouldn't you know it? He was already there, with a cup of hot chocolate and the heater running.
I may have dated a bunch of assholes, but at least I married my Prince/Knight in Shining Armor/Hero/Love of My Life.
I have an appointment in two weeks to find out the results of the sleep study. I'm pretty sure my messed up nose is the culprit, and I'm trying to psych myself up to get it fixed. I've heard it's not a fun surgery to recover from. But it would be very nice to actually feel rested when I wake up, and to not have to worry about staying awake until Jason falls asleep so the poor guy can actually get some sleep.
Well, that's my story.
And oh yeah, Monsters vs Aliens sucked. The single redeeming factor was Seth Rogen's laughter. It's infectious.