Sleep With Your Master

Anyone who knows me well (or has spent an evening with me) knows that I don't do sleepovers. In the past couple of years, I've adopted a more "love 'em and leave 'em" kind of attitude. Yes, I've had some failed relationships in my time and it's taken it's toll. But I can safely say that this practice isn't out of any sort of breakup bitterness. Perhaps I'm protecting myself a little bit but there's really much more to it.

I've always felt that the act of sleeping is a lot more personal than the act of sleeping with someone in the sexual sense. When you're having sex, you can be the best version of yourself. When you're sleeping, you are in your most vulnerable state and pretty much have zero control over your actions. You can't control if you drool, fart, or talk in your sleep. In the morning, your breath stinks, you have crap in your eyes, and you look totally disheveled.

The thing is, if you wake up next to me and I'm not feeling rested, you will be waking up alongside the spawn of Satan (especially if I haven't mainlined my coffee yet). It's not so much that I'm an ugly duckling in the morning; it's about how much I value and cherish my resting period. And, if anyone disrupts that, namely a boy sleeping next to me, I will likely resent them for as long as I know them. If I don't sleep well, I don't function.

My bedroom needs to be a sanctuary of sorts. I have an air purifier running, a sound machine with the rain function going, blackout shades, eye mask, night guard, and ear plugs. These are fondly referred to by my Mom and me as sleeping utencils. Often, I wake up in the morning and put my childhood blankie over my head to make it that much darker...and quieter. Most people, especially men, look at me as a freak of sleepytime nature.

I don't mind sharing this personal information with you because it's only a story in a silly little blog. What I mind is letting someone (i.e. one night stand) actually see me in my retainer-wearing splendor only to break up shortly after leaving my room and life with the visual of me in my most vulnerable state. So, I don't do sleepovers because that is a priviledge that one now has to earn--not a right. The next time I let a man sleep over, he will know that I must be in it for the long haul...or Hell hath frozen over.

On a recent trip to Iceland with my family, I developed total sleep mask envy. My sister was sporting this gorgeous mask that basically covered her entire head. No ray of sunshine or peep of noise was getting through that bad boy. It looked like a silky pillow was resting on her eyes and cheekbones. I wanted that mask; I had to have it.

Late one night when jet-lag had the worst of me, I sat in the hotel lobby with my laptop and ordered myself one of these bad boys online from Amazon. After all, it promises "total light elimination and built-in sound muffling." Are you kidding me? Amazing.

As much as I loved climbing that glacier, I could hardly wait to climb into my bed back home with my new mask for a test drive. I returned to LA late at night to find a brown box outside my door. Inside: a little slice of heaven.

Getting into bed after a long day of travel followed by a luxurious shower was amazing. I slipped into something more comfortable and became one with my mask. That night, I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I remember nothing and, by morning, I was a new woman. I will never sleep without my Sleep Master mask ever again. If anything were to get me to let a boy back in my bed, this mask would do the trick. I would be guaranteed a sound sleep.

So, the next time you find yourself beside someone in bed in that oh-so-vulnerable state, master the art of sleeping and buy yourself a Sleep Master mask.