If Pavlov had a sound machine

Starting in college I began using a sound machine when I slept. Sometimes it was the ocean playing on a cd and set to repeat all night. While in the States a few years ago, the people we lived with let us use a shmantzy one in our little basement apartment. Everyone in their family used one. Then when @ was born, we got a separate machine that played a variety of soothing sounds like tropical rain forest, white noise, or that creepy heartbeat one. We've moved on to using our iPod which makes it even more portable for when we travel.

In theory it's a great idea: get your body comfortable with a set type of sound that can be turned up louder when there is street noise, sounds from the television in the next room or the mosque down the street.

But the reality of it is that now, especially when I'm in our room, the sound of rain, real rain, knocks me out quick. Last night we were listening to a podcast from our friends in Greenfield while it was raining. I was trying to pay attention. I was trying to stay awake. I was trying to focus But that patter of raindrops on the roof flipped the switch in my brain that said it was time to doze. By the time the podcast was over, I could barely keep my eyes open. So now, for the four months of the rainy season, I will be fighting my subconscious reaction to what my ears are hearing.

I guess I should be happy. I might salivate instead.