2022: Adult Nap Day Declaration

I’d be lying if I said in 2022 that I plan to go to bed on time.

Or that I’d have an established time to be under the covers. Shoots, I can barely get off the couch, having dozed off right after dinner. A food coma, I’m famous for those.

I’ve fallen asleep, sitting on the couch, fully geared in my uniform-of-the-day with an extra-tall tumbler filled with water on my leg. I awoke, without spilling the cup, took a sip, and fell asleep again.

On another occasion, I met my husband clothed in an outfit from the night before. Hence, I didn’t go to bed that night. Dang those cornish hens. Three hours total, then up again at 7:30a to make a delivery.

Then there have been times when I’ve explored the food coma, catching a catnap only to awake at 2a or 3a, work until 4:30a, fall asleep for 2 hours, and leap up refreshed for a long day’s work.

Of course, by the time I returned home – I have a growing headache, and I can’t keep my eyes open.

I know, I know I push too much. Memories of early years as a graphic designer, and journalist. There were long days, nights, months, and years from those excruciating, painful deadlines. Somehow, I’ve kept up the drudge, not to the best of my judgment, but it’s just who I am.

I read once that children born late in the day have a tendency to be night owls versus those who are born earlier, who are typically early risers. You could say that I was a delayed birth. I arrived at 9:45p on a Thursday, a month later than expected. Guess I was establishing my nap routine.

In the New Year, I’m determined to institute the adult nap to grab 20 minutes or an hour here, there or everywhere. My favorite place seems to be the couch. It hugs my body, and there I find warmth. The bed, I’m afraid I wouldn’t awake, until the morning. At least that's what I tell myself, though my head is typically thrown over the back or rested on my shoulder, and in 3, 2, 1 – I’m out.

Can’t remember the last word I said, if I was indeed typing or if I ever got up for that last cup of water let alone a stop at the restroom.

Funny how I didn’t approve of naps as a kid.

I did everything to keep from going to sleep, often getting in trouble for continuous jabber, when I’d been told to ‘hush, be quiet and go to sleep.’ I suppose it was those creative energies bursting forth, attempting to find a landing place outside of me. Let’s be clear here, one cannot be creative in their sleep. Who sees it? Who interprets it? Who experiences it? Creativity must break free, soar high, and never be hidden.

Today naps for me are like spa breaks, where you rest back in the chair, couch or floor, and welcome the scents around you, allowing your body to relax while closing your eyes to float among the clouds into total space-less oblivion …until someone (husband, dog, cat, child, parent) enters the room – disturbing your break – to inquire, ‘are you asleep?’

Ugh? I was…

I must admit, there was a time when I denied that I was asleep. Startled, I’d awake and continue the conversation or answer as if it was a sin to garner a wink in the middle of the day. As if sleep was only acceptable in the wee hours or weekend mornings, hovered down in the bed, but never in the middle of the day, hours after waking, before or after breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Why the torture?

Long shrug.

The body knows when it needs sleep. Or it talks gibberish between sleep and awake, and you‘re talking but even you can’t make out the words that were said. I always seem to have the feeling of thinking that I should be at work or that I’ve missed an important appointment.

Sleep and rest go hand-in-in.

It took a while to acknowledge that, but now I know never deny the body of a power nap to rest, recharge, rejuvenate the body, and nor should you. It’s that burst of refreshing energy that your body deserves and desires.

So if I get my way, every day shall be Adult Nap Day in 2022.

Show of hands, who’ll join me?