An Open Letter to the Snoring Loaf Next to Me, You, and Everyone Else

The revered Michael Scott once eyed his nemesis and HR rep Toby on The Office and said, "I hate so much about the things you choose to be."

It was a simple line, delivered to capture a series' worth of angst toward his coworker. And it's a line that perhaps might apply to your own life. That is, if you have a partner who snores.

So I write this letter on behalf of all of us. The person who has spent countless hours nudging the rounded shoulder of their (loving) partner in hopes of opening up a nasal pathway or dislodging an obtrusive booger, and, at times, has even walked themselves to the couch because, while the couch is a cold and lonely place to sleep, out there on the couch, no one snores. I pour this one out for you.

Dear Snorer,

Don't look around the room. I'm aware that you don't know you snore — it's one of your greatest attributes, that authentic naiveté — but it's you I'm writing to. You and only you.

When you come to bed at night and wiggle yourself comfortable next to me, I smile. The bed feels empty without you — colder, even — and though I'm already asleep and rarely acknowledge your addition to the bed, my sleep and my dreams are aware of your absence. I feel lucky that you choose to join me nightly.

That said, I need you to get it together.

It's around 1 a.m. when the cacophony of unidentifiable sounds emanate from your side of the bed. I've tracked the noise down to its creator, often starting with the dog because I don't want to blindly blame you: but alas, it's always coming from you.

Sometimes its dull and rhythmic, and I can survive it by incorporating the thuds into a dream where I'm dancing in a dank dance hall, but usually, more often than not, the sounds are an invasion. They're deep, with a reverberating baseline that sticks in my mind.

Pal, you have got to stop this.

While I know that many people who snore might do so because they have medical conditions, sleep apnea, and even allergies, for you, none of this applies.

I hope as we near the new year, you can take this letter with you and come up with a plan of attack. If not, I have a few ideas of things you can try.

Best of luck to you. To us.

Signed,
Awake