How do you sleep in a sleeper bus?

How do you fall asleep in a loud bus?

Ugh, loud buses. How do I sleep?

• Noise-canceling headphones. Yes! Vital.
• Eye mask. The silk one, always. Blocks everything.
• No phone before bus. Blue light = enemy.

I remember that time I tried listening to white noise… did not work. Bus noises are too specific, you know? I also read about how to sleep better:

• Consistent sleep schedule. Ha! Impossible on a bus.
• Dark room. Yeah, right.
• Cool temperature. Okay, maybe the AC helps.

Wait, what about those neck pillows? The inflatable kind? They kinda work. Better than nothing, at least. Think I need a better one. A really GOOD one.

• Neck pillow. Invest.
• Download an audiobook. Something super boring.
• Deep breaths. Pretend I’m meditating. Lol.
• Window seat. Less bumping.

My aunt always tells me to visualize something peaceful. Like, a beach. Or… counting sheep? Sheesh. I just end up thinking about work. Nevermind. This bus better get there soon. I’m hungry.

Do they provide blankets in sleeper bus?

Blankets…sleeper buses… hmm.

• Yeah, they usually give you a blanket. But, like, who knows what kinda blanket it is.

• Always feels kinda sus, y’know? Like, is it clean? Did they even wash it?

Thinking about it…

• I brought my own once. Best decision ever. My purple fluffy blanket from my dorm room.

• So much better than the scratchy thing they gave out that one time.

• Oh! And neck pillow is key! My neck was killing me after my DC to NY trip.

Essentials for a sleeper bus, right:

• Blanket: Bring your own; trust me.
• Neck pillow: Lifesaver.
• Eye mask: Light pollution is real.
• Maybe some snacks, I get hungry. I always bring my peanut butter crackers.

Ugh, buses. My sister always takes the train. Maybe I should try that.

How do I stop being a loud sleeper?

So, you’re a sonic boom in bed, huh? Sounds rough. Seriously, my neighbor once called the cops thinking a jet was crashing. That wasn’t me, but close.

Here’s the deal, stop being a noisy night owl:

• Side sleeping: Ditch the back. It’s like trying to play a tuba while lying flat – a disaster.
• Nasal strips: Think of them as tiny superhero capes for your nostrils. They’re like, bam, suddenly you’re breathing like a newborn baby unicorn.
• Mouthpieces: These are like, uh, custom-made snorkels for your mouth. Less appealing, more effective. Trust me, I tried a nasal strip, it was awful. The mouthpiece is like a more reliable option.
• Weight loss: Shedding pounds is like turning down the volume on your snore-o-meter. I lost 15 pounds this year, and my snoring is down 70%!
• Mouth exercises: Seriously? Yeah, they exist. They’re ridiculous, but apparently, they work. Like yoga for your jaw. My dentist recommended it.
• Quit smoking: This one’s a no-brainer. Smoking makes you sound like a rusty drainpipe. I did quit last year. My neighbors are grateful.
• Avoid alcohol: Booze is a snore-amplifier. It’s like adding distortion to your already-loud slumber symphony.

Surgery: Last resort, people. Imagine sawing into your face – yikes! This year, I spoke to a guy who had it done. Dude, it worked miracles for him. The success rate is impressive, as I heard last month.

Remember, I’m not a doctor, just a guy who’s battled snoring demons. My advice? Try these things, and if nothing works, go see an actual sleep doctor. Don’t end up like my neighbor, perpetually complaining of sleep deprivation. My sister’s snoring sounds like a walrus having a seizure, and even my dog gave up and sleeps elsewhere. I got that fixed, but then my cat started snoring.

How do you fall asleep in a strange place?

Sleeping in weird places? Piece of cake! Unless you’re, like, sleeping in a badger’s sett. Then, uh oh.

Seriously though:

• Eye mask? Dude, I use my dirty socks. Works like a charm. Probably.
• Ear plugs? Nah, I just imagine the snoring’s a symphony of tiny, slightly off-key, trumpets.
• Favorite pillow? My head rests on my meticulously folded, slightly damp, gym clothes. Pure luxury.
• Sleep hygiene? Bah! I shove my phone under my pillow and watch TikTok until my eyes bleed. Then, magically, I’m out.
• Relaxation? I envision my arch nemesis, Chad from accounting, accidentally setting his hair on fire. Instant slumber.
• One night? Honey, I’ve slept through a hurricane in a hammock once. This is nothing.

Pro-Tip: If all else fails, pretend you’re a hibernating groundhog. Works every time. Almost. Except that one time with the racoons. I’m still not over that.

My grandma always said, “A good night’s sleep is a priceless commodity. Unless you’re sleeping in a haunted jail. Then it’s terrifying.” Wise words.

Last year I slept in a treehouse during a thunderstorm. It was awesome. Not the thunderstorm part, but the treehouse. Kind of.

Remember: My advice is genius and you should follow it. Okay, maybe not all of it.

How can I block out noise so I can sleep?

Okay, so last year, in my tiny apartment in Brooklyn – the one with the perpetually leaky faucet – sleep was a freakin’ nightmare. Construction. All. Day. Every. Day. I swear, those jackhammers were trying to vibrate my teeth out. I was exhausted. Absolutely shattered. I felt like a zombie.

I tried earplugs. They were uncomfortable, and didn’t block out enough. I ended up ripping them out during the night anyway. Honestly, the feeling was worse than the noise.

Then, I bought heavy, dark-purple blackout curtains from Amazon. They were expensive, but man, what a difference. The change was immediate. Seriously, like magic. My bedroom went from a construction zone to an actual sanctuary. The street noise was still there, obviously, but it was muffled, distant. Like a far-off whisper.

The darkness helped too. Total darkness. I slept so much better. So. Much. Better. The price was worth it. It helped a ton, seriously. It was less stress and more sleep. More peace, you know? I felt human again. I could function. Before, I was dragging myself through my days. Now? I actually have energy.

Things I learned:

• Blackout curtains are essential. Forget cheap ones. Get the heavy-duty kind.
• Soundproofing is a HUGE upgrade. While the curtains help significantly, the difference between “quiet” and “peaceful” is substantial. It’s a night and day thing.
• Price vs. Sleep Quality. You’re paying for sleep. If that’s a priority, it’s worth it.
• Read reviews meticulously. The reviews on Amazon saved me from cheap curtains that wouldn’t do anything. I read about a hundred before I bought mine. I’m glad I did.