Sometimes, I don’t know why I fight the urge to take a nap.
It’s not like I ever sleep in anymore. I’m up early (at a time a friend of mine refers to as “the butt-crack of dawn”) and working out, followed by getting ready for work, followed by working, followed by working around the house (either cleaning it, fixing food in it, feeding the animals/Husband in it), followed by writing or researching things to write about. There’s not a lot of down time these days.
I promise myself every day that I will go to sleep earlier. It never happens. I’ve tried every method possible to retrain, rethink and reconfigure my routine, in an effort to get more sleep. I’ve found that it’s one thing to get into bed, but quite another to turn off the brain cells by telling them, “Hey guys, lights out, playtime over. And quit thinking about THAT, too. I don’t care how good-looking he is. NOT NOW.”
I cannot imagine how people with kids do it all and still remain vertical. Managing for themselves plus the little people who depend on them is work. Do they keep pushing with the promise to themselves that there will be endless time someday to lay in a hot bath, snooze in a hammock or relax on the couch? Remember when we were kids in nursery school and kindergarten, and nap time was part of the curriculum? You had to bring a blanket or towel from home, and sometime during the day, everyone spread them out on the schoolroom floor, and pretended to sleep, fidgeting and giggling all the while? How come we never appreciated nap time back then?
I’d like to schedule a good nap during the day, but curling up on my desk at work really isn’t an option. So I’m going to give it a shot for the weekend. I’m going to schedule a weekend nap, starting this weekend. I have no idea on this Monday night if I will actually need it, but it sounds like such a luxurious thing to do, like booking a little vacation, except it’s on the couch, it’s free, and I’ll do nothing except close my eyes.