Snoring Bastard

You fucking snore. I hate that. You snore like some raggedy ass moped with a big black hole in the exhaust system. You sound like you're desperately trying to snort up all the oxygen in the room, suck the mucus down your esophagus, and drive me fucking insane!... You ran me out of my own bed. You know I have back trouble and you force me to go to my own couch at 6 in the morning - on a Saturday. Thanks. But you know what? I could still hear your snoring ass through the fucking vibrating walls. What's even more annoying is how you seem to be on some synchronized time lapse with your obnoxious snoring so that it correlates with my body's desperate attempts to sleep - meaning that each fucking time my body does the exhaustion override thing on my senses to knock my ass out, you, without fail, will chime in with one of your hideous nasally rumbles and wake me up again. Why not just throw a bucket of ice water on me and get it over with? I mean really, how many times do I have to nudge you, push you, shove you, kick you and yell??? It can't be a pleasant night's rest for you either. And then, so as not to continue disturbing you, least you be suffocated by a feather pillow, I get MY ass up and leave MY bedroom so you can continue your personal nose symphony in peace. I honestly don't know how the fuck you can sleep throughout that racket either, unless maybe your poor brain just overdoses on all the air you're hoarding, rendering you unconcious. But frankly, just so you know, depriving me of my precious sleep in such a cruel, torturous manner only makes me evil... Understand? EVIL. ...Especially when the child of mine wakes up at daybreak bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to go, and I know that there is no making up lost sleep... It is gone forever. Nope, not even a wink and a nod for another 14 hours... I need my sleep! Don't you get it? I'm a single parent for Christ's sake! You get to go home, lay on your ass and watch football all day. Woot. (I hope Notre Dame loses.) I get to rip my hair out by the roots, cook, clean, and sort books and videos a few hundred thousand times. So no, it's not that I'm moody sweetheart... I'm FUCKING TIRED. Which equates, under the circumstances, to: evil. So you'll please forgive me honey, with my aching back and eyelids taped open with duct tape, when I'm a tad short with you later and you happen to find a turd in your coffee.

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"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep."
--Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening