It has taken me nearly seven years of post-secondary education to fully grasp what it means to appreciate napping. It is no secret that I am an insomniac, meaning that I spend many nights awake in bed full of anxiety, full of anger or general angst, full of love or hate or anything really but full nonetheless and uncomfotable. If I get 4 hours of sleep (newly 4 as of Graduate school, before this term it was 5) hours of sleep I am a functioning human. Any less I need multiple cups of coffee to keep me going.
I’ve spent multiple afternoons, exhausted from lack of sleep and mental demands trying to nap. I’ve taken a graval, I’ve had little sleep numerous conseqcutive nights, but none of these exhausted moments resulting in naps. Maybe on the special time when I’d be commuting somewhere, or reading a particularly bland audiobook, but for the most part naps never enetered my life.
Not until about three months ago.
For example today I woke up from a cough-medication-induced slumber (due to this awful chest cold I’m battling) to read a heart-wrenching theories reading, attend a 2 hours free yoga workshop (whcih was essentially just grounding yoga work at the Drama Centre with friends), walking home, eating junk food and then settled into the longest of my theories readings…To which, half an hour into it, I drifted quietly to sleep. I woke up drooling on my sweatshirt and my playlist droning on some sad Joni Mitchell beauty that always plays when I read. My life, it seems, has turned into drifting off to readings about love, and drifting in to songs about love.
I could not be more grateful.
I no longer get angry when sleep visits me unexpectedly because otherwise it would probably never arrive at all. I welcome it, with open arms, and as long as my reading eventually gets done (I jumped up right after finishing the article to write this before starting the last of the readings due for next week so I could get everything out before inevitably screaming at my ipad as Richard Schechner tries to convince me that 9/11 was “art” and I’d be too angry to write about anything else) then I am fine with unexpected napping.
Especially on days like today where I have little structure binding me to anywhere outside of my bed. If I’m in a class, or running a rehearsal or on the subway–all placees lately where I’ve found myself drifting off and nustling into peaceful slumber, then it becomes an issue. I do not get angry when those driftings happenn though, I just have to work harder to prolong its presence until a more acceptable time.
~a foggy lullaby~