No Cuddling Means No Cuddling

There is a fierce anti-cuddle war being waged in Ex-Boyfriend’s bed semi-nightly. Among my tactics are

1. Honesty: "I can’t sleep when you’re touching me."
2. Excuses: "It's too hot to cuddle."
3. Misdirection: "Roll over so I can spoon you," followed by two minutes of spooning and then a sly little roll to the other side of the bed.

When all goes well, these tactics win me about an hour of uninterrupted sleep. When more ambitious I attempt the following current favorite of my far too elaborate ploys to get some rest: I forcibly remove his body from mine, scoot to the edge of the bed and, if further touching is attempted, (which it always is), make strange little disgruntled noises and wriggle uncomfortably until he leaves the immediate vicinity.

This tactic, though it involves more effort that a sleepy Company Bitch would consider ideal, works tolerably well except for those times when Ex-Boyfriend is drunk. In those cases, the first step, forcibly removing his body from mine, becomes nearly impossible and, if accomplished, he simply springs back and holds on like a barnacle.

Knowing all this, Saturday night I prepared for battle after a long drunken evening. Ex-Boyfriend was already half-asleep, drunk and mumbling. He had been like this for much of the night. I put on Ex-Boyfriend's boxers, climbed into bed and tensed up, ready to fight. Seconds later he rolled over in an attempt to sling an arm around me and I was ready for it. I countered with everything I had, which turned out to be more than I thought. He rolled off the bed in the opposite direction and hit the floor, knocking things off the nightstand in the process.

I peered over the bed. His naked body was splayed out at terrifying angles and didn't seem to be moving at all. There was a brief horrifying instant in which I thought I had killed him but soon enough he mumbled and wriggled about for a second or two. Though it did occur to me to stay in bed and revel in my victory, I am not a total bitch (despite a moniker to the contrary). I got up and tried to physically move Ex-Boyfriend back into bed. "Leave me alone" he kept muttering. "I’m fine."

Allrighty then. I slept for a blissful four hours straight. My peaceful Sunday morning was interrupted when Ex-Boyfriend came to and demanded to know why he had been asleep, naked, with his head under the dresser.