Sleeping on the Couch

As I grew up I suffered the humiliation from a thousand assailants with regards to my prim and proper boyish look with a bad case of malnutrition. I have been called many names, by strangers, friends, and family, and the names include almost every single thing you can think of. Mock my weight as you might, I have heard it all.


Not one to give up, though, I held the belief that one day, Fate would favour me once in my lifetime and I will emerge from my ugly caterpillar husk into my handsome potential.

And, many years later, I got a nice taste of handsomeness. I gained considerable weight, became part of normal human society, and became accepted and approved amongst my peers and strangers alike. All good, I thought to myself. Finally, instead of being mocked, I am praised. People applauded me for my efforts, and years of mockery have been replaced by a sense of profound achievement.

But alas, Fate sensed my pride and decided my potential was to be fully reached another day. My short lived bliss has reared its ugly end. I now sport a little belly I have no hope of ridding myself of. I haven’t been eating properly for the past two months, I haven’t been sleeping properly either.

But worst of all, karma chose a trait I used to mock people with when I was being mocked at: That they snored.

And now, I do.

Unaware and turning a deaf ear to my own snoring, I didn’t care. My sister, however, keeps waking me up several times every night so I can stop snoring. Oblivious to all of this of course, I carried on, thinking my sister was over exaggerating. Everyone snores at one point, from a weary day or a bit of extra dust in the air and clogged air passages.

Brief background: My most common nick name is “Nani”.

So my sister calls me by the name of Nani whilst I snore. Now all was well until I noticed, during my waking hours, that hearing the words “Nani” agitates me! It eventually caught on – I wake up every morning slightly agitated, given that my sis “wakes me up” several times a night by shouting Nani. So my brain formed a link between Nani and feelings of shoving a fork into someone’s eye.


And so it has been decided that until I visit an ENT, I am to sleep on the couch. It’s been great so far. The couch is quite wide and comfortable, I get a full night’s sleep (and so does sis), and my response to “Nani” is returning to normal.

Well, mostly anyway!