There’s this scene from the romcom “Trainwreck” that’ll likely resonate with those of you who share a bedspace.
Especially the ones who fail at keeping our mattress comrades happy – and vice versa.
Here, Schumer’s just trying to get some sleep.
Yet, something about the breath and sweaty flesh of her bedmate is making that about as possible as, well, John Cena being her (or my, for that matter) boyfriend IRL. To be courteous, homegirl’s decided to stay the night (instead’ve going home – which is what she truly wants to do). However, she makes it perfectly clear that should she remain, some sleep style tweaks will required from her pillow pal. Like… a fluffy fortification between them. Him laying supine. Him laying at an angle. Him breathing “toward the sky”…
And that was immediately what I thought of the second I saw the “Snoozeenie” ad.
It doesn’t matter if it’s someone you love or someone you just put up with reluctantly. Annoyance with noise and vexation with illumination doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t care if you’re the Dalia Lama during daylight hours. ’cause, if you’re disturbing my carnal robot’s recharge time at night, some part of me is secretly seething and – as Miss Schumer puts it – “resenting you”.
And, as the old adage goes, none of us want to go to bed angry.
That said, considering that Snoozeenie doesn’t pay me to push their products (and considering that these are made of mere fluffy stuff – not noise or light kryptonite), Saint Ashley’s here with the free sleep fixes, yet again. And here they are. A few free Snoozeenie shoe ins of the DIY variety to shove between the love or un-love of your life and you. Like: 1.) Perpendicularly arranged serving trays. 2.) That massive keyboard you bought the kids that they never use. 3.) The plasma screen. 4.) Two empty Papa John’s boxes. 5.) Two not-empty Papa John’s boxes. (Because: nocturnal snack.)
All jokes aside, though, this could literally be replicated with ten minutes, fifteen bucks, and a trip to Target.
How? By just cutting two rectangles of foam roll-out mattress padding and sewing them together with a cloth hinge.
(I also like how the foam is pointy. This will really reinforce your end game of quiescence. Because while logically, your bedmate knows it’s soft, subconsciously, we’re reminded of danger when we see dagger-esque shapes. And we tend to STFU and mind our P’s and Q’s so everyone can get some Z’s.)
Boom. Snooze-free-nie. Well, not really (unless you’ve already got some foam). But compared to the actual price, kind of. Because, instead of breaking a C note for a family pack (yes, each one is $40 bucks), you can plant your poor man’s still effective version in every room for less than the price of a single Snoozeenie. Don’t get me wrong, the idea’s totally a great one. And, had I thought of it first (and the patent money, and all the other funds that go into invention related stuff), I’d be capitalizing on America’s laziness and prizing your jade paper you slaved to make from you too. But since I’m just a chick with a digital quill and a quasi-conscience, I’m giving you these complimentary tips so you can sleep better – and not just ’cause of the foam fortress; but because of one less poor choice you made that won’t leave you poor.
Despite Amy’s antics, by the end of Trainwreck, Hader doesn’t hate ‘er.
But for the rest of us who can neither nab Cena or sleep partners who are half as understanding…
…looks like either this pillow partition (or one of my amazing homemade variations of it) might be our best bet.