... issues and tissues with a touch of the spicy from the spirit hag ...
... i am the bedhog, i am the starfish ...
Published on November 13, 2004 By mignuna In Misc

I cannot keep still in my sleep.

 

I for some reason assume a sleeping position my husband has named ‘the starfish’ (arms out, legs out), thus occupying the entire bed.

 

From there, I for some reason like to hurl the blankets across the room with great force and smash the bedside lamp, occasionally followed by bestowing my sleeping husband with a thump on the head.

 

(Neither of us has any idea why I do this. Happily, my husband chooses not to view this as some type of repressed waking urge to belt him over the head. This works for both of us).

 

 

 

So, (with the exception of the odd ‘nocturnal-karate-chop-by-wife’), my husband awakens in the morning looking approximately the same way as he did upon going to sleep.

 

I, however, somehow deteriorate during the night !.

 

He looks neat, well rested, refreshed. Perhaps a little untidy, but nothing a comb can’t fix.

 

I, however, look like I have spent the wee hours engaged in folk dancing with a football team.

 

I do not awaken with the dawn, fresh as a new bud in spring and as just as pleasant to behold.

 

(I in fact look like a complete and utter wreck, and invariably greet the day through (puffy, sleep encrusted) eyes with all the allure of a recent roadkill).

 

 

 

(My ex-housemate Adam and I were once having breakfast after having attended a rather raucous party the evening before. The party had been a ‘back to school’ theme, and I, wearing  school uniform, had been taken fancy to by the hosts (very drunk and very lecherous) dodgy old ‘Uncle’.

 

“Vanessa ...” Adam drawled, looking at me “... If that dirty old man that was chasing you everywhere last night could be waking up next to you right now, he’d be saying “Ugh ! ... What was I thinking ???””.)

 

 

 

Daily, my fresh-faced husband springs from the bed, runs a hand through his (charmingly sleep-tousled) curls, and faces the day.

 

I, however, must endure the horror of 'morning' face !.

 

Arrrrgh !.

 

(Why are my eyes on my forehead ?).

 

 

 

One side of my face puffier than the other, one clear eye and one red one, one cheek bearing a canyon-like pillow-wrinkle, hair near-vertical one side and resembling a squashed pith helmet on the other, mascara dark circles even when I’m not wearing any.

 

I am a mess !. But a cheerful one, which luckily seems to be all that really counts to my husband (provided, of course, he got some sleep !).

 

 

 


Comments (Page 2)
2 Pages1 2 
on Nov 16, 2004
And before anyone asks:

No, not really. I just made that up.


You had me going, citahellion! Damn gullible tendencies. Grrrr....

Suz xxx
on Nov 22, 2004

thanks guys for the explanation of the 'mascara glands'. citahellion, you should have a talk show

sabrina, i hope simon enjoyed my little contribution to his boredom relief - always happy to oblige .

kelly, i will send that email right now. thanks again for asking me

mig XXX

on Nov 22, 2004

Well I for one am like a movie star.  I am the same dashingly handsome man in the morning that I am the night before...   For those of you men who are less fortunate, I suggest trying the following approach.  Massage certain parts of your wife's anatomy in the morning, before she opens her eyes.  Rub her the right way, and she'll forget all about how homely you are first thing in the a.m. 


Just a thought

on Nov 25, 2004

mj, you're just a helluva hunk of man wherever you are, treasure !.


why, if i wasn't your sister ...


mig XXX

2 Pages1 2