Tag Archives: earthing sheet

Green Light; No Green

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So I’ve been given the go-ahead on the electro-sheet!

Wow, you say! What happened? What made your husband change his mind? Was it research he did? Research you did? The depth and genius of your blog post on the subject?

None of the above.

Rather, Mike received an e-mail from a friend — one whose opinion he trusts (ahem, more than mine, apparently). Said friend had read my post. She offered a resounding endorsement of earthing sheets — said they had increased her energy level, dramatically improved her sleep, even cured her of tinnitus! Tinnitus! Anyway, she couldn’t say enough good things about them, and begged Mike to buy me one right away.

“Well,” Mike said, upon reading this missive. “I guess I was wrong…”

Angels! Trumpets! Harps! I saw my sheet floating towards me, bathed in celestial light, resting gently on a bank of gold-flecked clouds, surrounded by lambs and bluebirds. And — OK — smelling slightly of static.

Mike interrupted my reverie. “Go ahead and get one if you want.”

That’s the good news. No more objections from my spouse. Let me be clear: he would’ve let me get it in any event — what is this, the 1950’s? — but might have insisted upon sleeping on the couch once it was installed. Now domestic bliss can be maintained!

The bad news is that we’re out of money. For this month, at least. We’ve already spent our disposable income — such as it is — on dry-walling the  garage. Next month we need to buy a garbage disposal. The following month, a water filter. In other words, I’m looking at getting my earthing sheet somewhere around Memorial Day, assuming nothing else in the house breaks between now and then. Talk about your long shots.

But speaking of long shots, there is one way it could happen faster. If it comes through I could be grounded as soon as, well, Earth Day! How fitting!

You see, we found a little money in an ancient passbook savings account of Mike’s (if you’re younger than 35 you will have no idea what this is — don’t bother finding out. Stupid and obsolete.) We are trying to get it, but the process has proved annoying, stressful, and torturous. It requires sending the bank a letter asking for our money, along with the original passbook for the account. Which, in my opinion, qualifies as an antique and therefore oughtn’t be put anywhere but a museum. But the bank wants it. And we want our money.

And Mike, who saves everything, has the passbook! Yes! Or did, until he took it out to send it. Then he lost it. In the house. After holding on to it for eleven years.

We’ve been looking for it for two weeks.

If we find it, (somewhat unlikely), the bank will — hopefully — eventually — please, God!! — let us have our money. An extra $800! I’ll be able to afford the grounding sheet! Hell, I can get the grounding shoes, too! I could buy a whole grounded ensemble! There’s probably the cutest little hat with a lightning bolt on it! All of which we’ll need even more at that point due to the exhaustion, stress, and profound frustration that all of this red-tape wrangling will have caused us.

But seriously? I’ll be happy with just the sheet. Someday. In the meantime, no rest for the weary. I may be tired, I may be disorganized, I may be electronically compromised, but I still have a toddler to watch, a house to clean, and a *#%!^&* passbook to find.

Going To Ground

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I’ve been having some trouble sleeping recently. At first I blamed it on the multiple dark-chocolate-covered TJ’s caramels I was eating every night, which, admittedly, have far from a soporific effect. But, even after I cut them out, the problem persisted. I decided to write it off to stress — I mean, let’s face it: new home, bad garden, cracking sounds in the walls, what-preschool-to-send-our-daughter-to, Rick Santorum, disappointment about “Downton Abbey’s” second season — there’s a lot to lose sleep over.

Then, one morning recently, I was idly perusing  a food blog when I came across an entry on “earthing.” Earthing, for those of you not in the know, is the science of, um, getting electrically grounded. For better health. By sleeping on a special, $200, specially wired sheet. OK, I know, it sounds stupid, but it’s also weirdly compelling, right? Well, it was to me. I happen to know that there are many ungrounded outlets in our bedroom — near our bed!  This, coupled with other elements of the “earthing” philosophy, convinced me that, if I ever wanted to sleep decently again, we’d better get that sheet.

I called Mike at work and told him about it. I explained that we humans have positive charges and the earth has negative. Or vice versa. Anyway, the point is they’re different. And if we don’t spend time barefoot on the ground — which no one does anymore — then we can’t get grounded and all sorts of problems ensue. Like sleeplessness! The guy on the website said he’d had all kinds of sleep problems, but now that his mattress is grounded he’s fine! He snoozes blissfully for hours! He enjoys the slumber of the Gods. The kinds of Gods that sleep. Which is maybe the Greeks. Although they mostly ate and fornicated. And they were a long time ago…

Anyway, I asked Mike if he thought maybe the sheet would be a good investment.

There is a certain kind of silence that comes back to you over the phone when you call your husband at work with this kind of inquiry. At least in my marriage there is. It is a silence that shouts: “I don’t know how to respond to this. I am busy. You are crazy. Can we talk later?” It is so loud that it actually precludes the need for words.

It was clear that the electro-sheet was not going to happen. I resolved to forge on without it.

Needless to say my slumber did not improve. Now, on top of all the other worries, was a new one: that we were sleeping amidst a cacophony of misdirected electrical impulses. I could almost feel them shooting across my body as I tossed and turned. I buzzed. I hummed. I sizzled! I, myself, could power a small toaster. I had to have that sheet!

Then, fortunately, something came along to distract me from all of that. Oil pulling. I was talking to my sister when she told me that, by swishing a mouthful of coconut oil around for — ahem — twenty minutes every morning, I can cure myself of pretty much anything. Liver problems, cancer, thyroidism, arthritis…the list goes on. Of course, I don’t have any of these conditions. But I figure if oil pulling works on them, it’ll have no problem dealing with my little sleep condition. I’m even betting it can take on the electrical melee in our bed. Ungrounded ions, meet extra-salivated vegetable oil! It’s on!

Unfortunately mouth pulling must be done first thing in the morning, on an empty stomach, and in total silence. (Obviously. Hard to speak when you’re gathering toxins in your mouth via Ayurvedic swishing). So it’ll be some work to figure out how to do this while simultaneously tending to my chatterbox of a daughter. I guess we’ll break out the old baby sign language book. I wonder what the hand signal is for “my fluids are becoming viscous, can it wait?”

At any rate, I am certain of feeling better soon. I place great faith in anything that is cheap, organic, and involves a tongue scraper. Now if I can just stay off of the internet long enough to not find another cure I’ll be fine.

I think I’ll also garden without shoes for awhile. It can’t hurt to cover all of my bases.