I loathe having a television in our bedroom. I don’t like to watch TV before falling asleep. I like to read. My bed partner, however, loves watching TV before bed and claims that he can’t fall asleep without it. That’s a hot steamy pile of turd, because on the few times when he didn’t watch TV, and instead read, he was out like a light in less than 10 minutes.
The man is so resistant. He thinks that because he’s used to watching, there’s no other way. I try to tell him that it’s a just a bad, stinky, unhealthy and annoying habit, and he can break it. I’ve begged him to let me help him.
He doesn’t see that watching television stimulates the brain, which is why he channel surfs (the daddy of all stimulation) wondering why he can’t fall asleep. His logic is so ass backwards and he’s usually a very logical man.
To watch, or not to watch is hands-down the topic of most of our arguments. In the beginning, I tried to be a good sport. It wasn’t only the sound that bothered me; it was the light. I’ve put socks (or whatever is laying around) in front of the cable box and DVD player because I can actually ‘feel’ the light. Of course this just gives my bed partner more ammunition, "You’re nuts. Who does that?" I’m nuts because I’m sleep deprived.
I tried wearing an eye mask but when I rolled onto my side, where I like to sleep, it was very uncomfortable. I think it was too cushion-y. Now I just face away from the television and hope that by the time I’m ready to roll to the other side, he’s turned the TV off.
I still have the issue of volume. How loud does one actually have to have it, when the television is only a few feet away and it’s BEDTIME?! Huh? How loud? I have superior hearing. It might have something to do with the satellite dishes I call my ears.
Nevertheless, I can hear the television when it’s super low. Naturally, I expect my bed partner’s hearing to be the same. It isn’t. The level at which he likes to watch could wake the dead. And if he did wake my dead grandparents, they could watch TV together at a deafening volume. But whereas my grandparents were actually deaf, and needed the volume up, because they were like elevendymillion years old, my bed partner is NOT!
I made an effort and tried earplugs a few months ago. When I removed them in the morning, I felt crazy dizzy. I couldn’t stand up. It lasted a whole day and I was convinced that my head put pressure on my ears, and pushed the earplugs into my gentle ear canal and messed with my equilibrium. Hey bed partner, I hope watching the season finale of Spartacus was worth it.
I’ve slept in the basement, where it’s quiet and as dark as a bat cave. But am I really going to sleep without my bed partner. Pause for deep contemplation.
We’re building a house (details to come) and my bed partner already has the locations (plural) of two of the televisions. He wants one over the fireplace (it makes me throw up a little in my mouth just thinking about it) and a television in the bedroom. We have a vaulted ceiling, so he wants to put it high on the wall, so he can watch in bed, but then have it on some kind of mount that allows him to lower it, swivel it around, and watch from the bathtub.
This is far from over. Every time he brings this idea up, which thankfully isn’t too often, as toilets are our immediate priority, I don’t say a word. It’s my version of reverse psychology. I want him to think that I’m all for it, and then, when he least expects it, I can gently and calmly show him the error of his colossally stupid idea. And I mean that in a loving way.