Monday, March 26, 2007

Naughty Naps

Being a night-owl in a day-driven society can be tough on a girl. For whatever reason, I'm wired to think bigger, better (or maybe it's just medium-sized, barely average) thoughts from the hours 10 -1 a.m. Drives me crazy, really. As much as I'd like to conform to societal expectations, it's been a futile effort thus far and napping is the least of it.

So, I'm a big fan of the perfect nap. There are perfect naps, you know. The kind where you lay down, feeling a little naughty and slip into sweet, stolen slumber. For me, waking refreshed and getting a good second wind for the afternoon and evening, makes for a wonderful day. According to research, it contributes to my gut-butt issues (less sleep after my compensatory nap). This makes napping that much naughtier. I'm short on naughty in my life; it's pathetic, actually, that my nap qualifies as naughty, but that's the state of my 1950s life. Watch out! I could be sipping martinis at 5:00 p.m. soon. And feather-dusting. And wearing pumps and cone bras. Probably, not. Naps will have to be the naughtiest I get, those and Coca-Colas.

Well, another napper, someone whom I respect immensely (no, not Winston Churchill, though he was a big napper, too) James Lileks, naps without guilt.

I used to sleep in until noon. Those were the carefree college days – or, more accurately, the carefree college days in which I had stopped going to classes. (A small but important distinction.) Oh, I had spent a few years getting up for early classes, sitting half-awake in dark rooms with a cup of cafeteria coffee until Prof. Canedy jolted everyone awake with another exceptional lecture on the miracles of Renaissance Art, but towards the end of my college career I took one afternoon class, wrote a lot, waited tables at night, played a lot of pinball, and argued over The World in a booth at the Valli after bar rush. I’d go home, listen to Larry King in the dark, drift off, and wake on the cold, shame-draped steps of Noon.

Sleeping 'til noon, "shame-draped". Now I nap, shame-draped and naughty. Well, I'm due a naughty nap. We'll see if I get one this week.

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