I think my husband is trying to kill me.

Ughs, I'm soo bloody tired. It's not even funny.

Sunday I was in bed all day because I was feverish and puked my guts out midday. Monday I stayed home from work and stayed in bed all day (till I picked up Lovie from school) because I was exhausted. Tuesday and Wednesday I had to work so no resting during the day and I feel like I'm just walking around in a haze today as a result. Because while I very well am going to bed early enough, I can't fucking get more than a couple hours of solid sleep a night.

Because my husband is trying to kill me.

Really, I'm starting to really wonder if this is what is happening.

He comes to bed after me, always has. Way after me. Like I go to bed by 9 (generally) and he doesn't come to bed for hours later. Like hours.

And when he does he hits the pillow and starts snoring pretty immediately.

Which I can generally deal with.

Unless he gets on his stomach and starts attacking his face.

RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB RUB

Deep groan in that gets held for so long I wonder at times if he stopped breathing.

Whooshing of blowing air out.

But it's never consistent or I may be able to somehow ignore it and drift back off to sleep... except that the RUB RUB RUB part always wakes me up because he shakes the whole fucking bed while he's doing it, while he attacks his face (nose).

I nudge him; I kick him; I ask, "Did you take a Claritin today?" until he answers me. Sometimes I will just bark, "Get off your stomach!"

It's fucking maddening. MADDENING.

So maybe he's not trying to kill me after all. Maybe he's just trying to drive me fucking insane.