Ear Plugs: A Night Owl's Best Friend

Danielle Hartshorn
Just one more chapter, I tell myself, then I'll go to bed. I'm engrossed in 'The Cottage' by Danielle Steel. It's 12:30 a.m. but that's O.K.-rarely am I asleep by 2.

Two hours later, despite not being tired, I make myself go to bed. I brush my teeth and wash my face extra vigorously, hoping that will tire me out; nope. I feel as though I've had four cups of espresso. But alas, I've been sipping on Diet Dr. Pepper all day. For some reason I'm under the impression it's caffeine free.

Nope. 41 grams of caffeine per 12-oz serving.

Of course I don't find this out until the next day, after I've tossed and turned in my bed dozens of times. Frustration eventually turns to anger, and so I decide to power on my air conditioner. It's not necessary, since it's a cool night, but it always helps me sleep.

Tonight it decides to blow hot air.

I run back and forth to all four of my vents, holding my hands up to it: yep, warm air. It does this sometimes but that's O.K., I think. It's cool outside so I'll just open my window.

Enter skunk stench.

'Are you kidding me!' I yell at the top of my lungs. It's 4:30 a.m. The smell is horrible and soon fills my room. My dog looks up from his bed, and I have no idea if it's because I've screamed or the odor. I squeeze my eyes really tight, hoping it will go away. Eventually I fall into a soft sleep.

And then I hear it: birds, dozens of them, right outside my window. Chirping, tweeting, screaming, yelling-as if they know I'm just about to fall asleep.

"For the love of God let me sleep!"

Now I'm pissed. My body is full of caffeine, my dog's awake and wanting to go outside, my room smells like a skunk and now the birds are chirping.

And then I remember my ex's ear plugs. He had used them since I snore at night, and the bastard never took them back.

I dig through my nightstand and find the package. One in each ear and miraculously it's quiet. Unfortunately, I can still smell the stench. A thought occurs to me, and deciding I have nothing to lose I shove one up each nostril.

Perfect.

No stench, no noise. And I certainly made myself tired from getting so worked up.

As I drift into dreamland, with ear plugs up my nose and in my ears, I'm thankful I now sleep alone.

Published by Danielle Hartshorn

Everything can be a story, whether it's the watermelon you're cutting up or the cream soda that's fizzing on your table.  View profile

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