Ambient sonic booms for sleep

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Updated Aug 3, 2017

You get used to a certain level of ambient noise when you sleep in a truck. You either get used to it, or become incessantly cranky because you’ve only slept 15 seconds at one time in any sleeper berth break. Truck stops are noisy, rest areas aren’t restful, and the far away spots that “no one knows about but us” are few and far between anymore.

I became wholly dependent upon ambient sleep noise apps on the road. My name is Wendy, and I’m addicted to “rain on the back porch.”

Hi, Wendy.

I’ve listened to it so much, just seeing the words rain on the back porch, lull me into a … zzzzzzzz.

Wake up, Wendy.

It’s rained a lot in Ohio this year.It’s rained a lot in Ohio this year.

Where were we? Oh yeah, rain sounds are awesome for training your brain to fall asleep, until you’re me and fall over like a fainting goat every time there’s a thunderstorm. And since it’s been rainy in Ohio this summer anyway, I’ve had to wean myself off the rain sounds and move on to the summer classic, “box fan,” which achieves a bi-fold purpose of lulling me to sleep and maintaining the frigid atmosphere I seem to sleep so well in.

George is very tolerant of my sound crutches, especially when we’re in the truck, since he’s usually so exhausted he could sleep through a water buffalo stampede after driving. Being home is a little different. It’s quiet at home, and sometimes the ambient noise habit is noisier than the non-ambient quiet. (Don’t dissect that sentence, just go with it. It’s me we’re talking about here. It’s probably not going to make good sense.)

I woke up alone for the second time, and because we’re both tired of being in recovery-mode, which is why we’re at home in the first place, I may or may not be a little cranky. I really wasn’t sure why my husband slept on the couch, but I was sure gonna find out.

“What the hell, man? Why did you sleep on the couch?”

“Well good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Seriously, what’s up? Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“I’m sorry dear, I didn’t realize sleeping on the couch was a personal affront to you. I was having trouble sleeping with the five-piece orchestra you had playing for sleep sounds, so I went somewhere quieter than the Langley wind tunnel to sleep.”

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“It’s not a five-piece orchestra, it’s ‘flute over water,’ and I had to turn it on to drown out the stupid neighbors, who apparently discovered they have the ability to shriek like trapped rabbits at about midnight last night, and decided to practice a lot.”

“Really? Hmm. I missed that. Probably couldn’t hear it over the fan, watery flutes and the occasional dog fart. I think I did hear a sonic boom from the base, but no neighbors shrieking.”

“Then you’re going to totally admit my sleep apps work.”

“Well, if driving me from the bed to find somewhere less active than a train station to sleep is admitting they work, then yes.”

This is where I make the sarcastic, umm-hmm face every husband is familiar with and carry on with my day without apologizing, like a normal person would do, for keeping him awake with my sleep crutch. But I did delete “flute over water” from the list. Compromise. It’s important.

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