Didn’t realize I’ve been doing it wrong the entire time! Gonna try this tonight

Sleeping position matters more than most realize, given the time we spend in bed. Sleeping on your side is popular and pleasant for many, but this small change can have a significant impact on your health. Understanding your sleeping posture can lead to better sleep quality and overall health benefits.

Improved Digestion and Heart Health: “Sleeping on your left side helps improve digestion” and “relieves pressure on the heart,” making it easier for blood to circulate. This can be particularly beneficial for those with heart issues.

Reduced Snoring and Sleep Apnea: Side sleeping “can help keep the airways open,” reducing snoring and easing sleep apnea. This simple shift can lead to more restful nights.

Relief of Back and Neck Pain: Proper spine alignment is crucial for reducing discomfort. Sleeping on your side promotes a “more neutral spine position,” potentially easing back and neck pain.

Pregnancy Benefits: Pregnant women are advised to sleep on their left side as it “promotes circulation to the heart” and increases blood flow to the fetus.

Making a small change, like moving to side sleeping, can significantly improve your well-being. Try it tonight and see the benefits for yourself.

I COMPLAINED ABOUT MY NEW NEIGHBORS’ HORRIBLE FOUNTAIN & RECEIVED A THREATENING NOTE FROM THEM.

The quietude of Elm Street, once a symphony of birdsong and gentle laughter, had been shattered. The arrival of the new neighbors, the Morlocks, had thrown the idyllic tranquility of their little community into chaos.

Initially, I had tried to be welcoming. A plate of freshly baked cookies, a warm smile, a friendly “Welcome to the neighborhood!” But my overture had been met with a chilling silence. The woman who answered the door, pale and gaunt, had regarded me with a suspicion that bordered on paranoia. “Ew, it smells awful,” she had muttered, her eyes darting nervously around as if I were some sort of disease.

Then came the fountain. A monstrosity of wrought iron and gargoyles, it stood imposingly in their yard, a constant, jarring presence. The incessant gurgling and splashing, day and night, had become the soundtrack to our lives. Sleep became elusive, replaced by the monotonous drone of the water.

The neighborhood, once a haven of peace and camaraderie, was now a battleground. Tempers flared. Arguments erupted at the weekly community meetings. Finally, a vote was taken – a unanimous decision to request the removal of the fountain.

And so, the unenviable task of filing the official complaint fell to me. I, the self-proclaimed peacemaker, the neighborhood’s unofficial ambassador of goodwill, was now the bearer of bad tidings.

That evening, as I returned home, a small, ominous package lay on my doorstep. No return address. A shiver ran down my spine.

Inside, a single sheet of paper, scrawled with menacing handwriting:

“I KNOW YOUR SECRET. YOU WILL BE POLITE TO YOUR NEW NEIGHBORS, OR EVERYONE WILL KNOW.”

Fear, cold and clammy, gripped me. Who was it? The Morlocks? Or someone else, someone watching, someone waiting for the right moment to strike?

The following days were a blur of paranoia and unease. I checked every window and door lock multiple times a night. I slept with the light on, the faintest sound sending shivers down my spine. My once peaceful neighborhood had transformed into a place of fear and suspicion.

The police, after much persuasion, agreed to investigate. They questioned the Morlocks, of course, but they denied any involvement. The woman, her face gaunt and drawn, maintained her innocence, claiming she was simply trying to enjoy her own property.

The investigation yielded nothing. No fingerprints, no witnesses, no concrete evidence. The threat remained, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of our seemingly idyllic community.

I started carrying a small can of pepper spray, my hand instinctively reaching for it at every rustle of leaves, every unfamiliar sound. I avoided going out alone at night, my days filled with a constant sense of unease.

The incident had changed me. The once friendly, outgoing neighbor was now withdrawn, suspicious, constantly scanning the shadows for signs of danger. The peace and tranquility of Elm Street, shattered by the arrival of the Morlocks, had been replaced by a chilling sense of fear and uncertainty.

And the fountain, that monstrous, discordant symbol of their arrival, continued to spew its icy water, a constant reminder of the darkness that had seeped into the heart of their once idyllic community.I COMPLAINED ABOUT MY NEW NEIGHBORS’ HORRIBLE FOUNTAIN & RECEIVED A THREATENING NOTE FROM THEM.

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