When people talk about sleep, I always say that I don’t really like it. It’s an unfortunate necessity, I says. All that time spent doing nothing, I says. Think about how much we could do if we never had to sleep! Think about how much of our lives are wasted away lying there in bed? Isn’t it weird that we dedicate a large portion of our living space to just lying there unconscious?
But I do have to admit that I love sleep. I love it even more when I’m incapable of getting it. This past weekend I was working every waking hour to finish a project on deadline, and then, the night after I finished, I ended up getting a single hour of sleep. Last night was the first night in a while that I was able to sleep more than four hours (and still only managed to grab around six).
It’s one of those “you don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone” sort of thing. And it’s very true. I don’t like that sleep is a must-have, but all things considered, it feels pretty darn good. Apart from the project, the other thing keeping me from sleep was the weather. It’s been far over 100 F the past few weeks (about 38 C for the rest of the world), and I’m one of those people that needs to have a blanket over me to sleep. That didn’t work out too well. But last night it finally dropped below 85 F in my room, so I was able to sleep.
When I was browsing the internet last night, I came across a comic that I think pretty adequately described at least one part of the strange sleep process we humans have to endure. I especially relate to this due to some pretty insane insomnia. The dread of waking up after so little sleep and feeling ready to take on the world is pretty foreboding.
Either way, while I don’t like having to sleep, sleep itself feels pretty darn good once I’ve admitted defeat and gone to bed. And when I can finally sleep for any decent amount of time, that is. Being a natural lucid dreamer also adds to the coolness, I’ll admit.
Thanks for reading. Now go to bed.