In the absence of a patient but long-suffering boyfriend to keep awake with my woodchopper snoring, I’m forced to sleep—IN SIN!—with this not-creepy app running in the background to record and chart my snoring so my doctor can monitor the efficacy of my super-expensive anti-APPnea (SEE HOW CLEVER THAT IS?) custom dental appliance.
So I’ll be sleeping with a mouthful of jaw-realigning plastic while my phone secretly records every noise in my bedroom. WHICH ARE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF ALL LEADING WHAT-ARE-YOU-LOOKING-FOR-IN-A-PARTNER CRITERIA ON EVERY DATING SITE ON THIS AND ALL OTHER LONELYHEARTS-COLONIZED PLANETS EVER.
Indignities. They never end.
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