Square Peg ● Round Hole







If you read my blog yesterday, you would have read the story of a man who refused to use his C-Pap machine and in turn, emulated the sounds of a lonely, pathetic elephant desperate for a mate. There was no wonder why he was having issues. Because I am striving to be a part of the solution versus the problematic human that I can be, I was able to say what I had to say without being a sarcastic bitch with a stick up my ass. Progress, friends.

“Brian, in the future, I need for you to always use your C-Pap machine when we sleep together.”

“I hear you.”

Okay, one of my biggest pet peeves is when my spouse says those three words. “I hear you” doesn’t really tell me much. Is he remorseful? Does he care that I spent a chunk of the evening trying to drown out the heinous sounds coming from his body? It is quite possible that my expectations were too high in this regard. I suppose I expected him to apologize to me and promise he will work on this matter. My unrealistic expectations usually get me nowhere.

Later in the day, he approached me as I sat on the couch binge reading. Our eyes met as he asked to speak with me. Here is another pet peeve. When he wants to discuss something that he knows I am irritated with, he talks in a robotic tone. Not demeaning, but after almost thirty years together, his approach could be more relaxed. So, as you read the dialogue, please feel free to use your best robot voice.

“May I speak to you?”


“While I hear you about using my C-Pap machine, I feel that you have been disrespectful in regards to your white noise machine. I have told you that it interferes with my sleep, yet you continue to use it.”

Ladies, this was where I waffled between saying “I hear you” or quite possibly wondering if marriage is for me. (JK, sort of!) I am a 51 year old woman who needs sleep. My white noise machine is a healthier option that an addiction to Ambien. Don’t ask me to sacrifice my sleep aid. Then he walks away, which is my third pet peeve of this scenario. In my head, I am screaming, “Oh, hell no!”. But, I wait a few minutes before I approach him. You see, my reactions tend to be dramatic laced with sarcasm. I know you are stunned by this admission. Frankly, as I approach him, I am still wondering how this will play out with leaning towards choosing my white noise machine over my spouse. But then, a miracle happened. There is this thing called a compromise that rose from the ashes. It presented itself through my husband. He asked if my machine had a timer. If so, would I be willing to use the timer to help myself fall asleep that way it won’t be on the whole night. And here I was ready for divorce court. He even throw out the idea that I could turn it back on, if I woke up in the middle of the night. WHAT????? That was the answer to my conundrum.

So last night, he used his C-Pap machine while I set the timer on my machine for 90 minutes and we slept happily-ever-after. This new idea of compromising is intriguing. Perhaps, I will seek it during other situations.