Thursday, September 15, 2005
How much sleep do you need? I hear some people say they’re fine with less than (or, Aimee, is it “fewer than”?) 4 or 5 hours a night. Supposedly Napoleon didn't get more than that, but I suspect the sleep deficit upset his whole digestive system, hence the hand in his coat all the time. But other would-be generals I know swear they're okay with only a few hours sleep. Any more and they feel over-rested.
Over-rested? What the fuck is that? You can be too thin or too rich, but too rested? Over-rested seems to me like being over-sexed. Well, on some fortunate occasions it happens, but that ain’t something to complain about. “Jeez, I am saturated with sex. A surplus of schtupping. No further fellatio! 69ing has already gone over 70.”
I’ve learned that I require 7-8 hours a night. If I fall behind, then I have to make it up. So yeah, if I go several nights with only a few hours… the next day there’s a good chance I need to extend my stay in Slumberland for more than half the day. Or make several long visits in a row.
Like lately. Last night I was so tired, I didn’t think I could stand up in the shower. So I took a nice long bath and started dozing off in the tub. Fortunately, breathing bubbles woke me up and I crashed into bed, slept through 2 alarms before the third one got me up and to work late as usual.
Then at lunch today I went to my friend’s place and napped on her couch, coming back to the office late again. Some of my fatigue is due to all my work early in the week, but I prefer to blame her.
We hung out last weekend at our favorite Mexican joint. She flirted with the bartender and got us super-strong margaritas. But she stupidly gave the guy her number… so when we went back there again, he was all pissed off that she didn’t return his calls, and this time our drinks were watered-down, weak & wussy. Pendejo.
So much later, craving some booze but wanting to keep it mellow, I challenged my neighbor to a game of Scotch Scrabble. Every fifty points, you gotta do a shot. I kicked ass, scoring 430, thanks to two bingos (using all 7 letters), each giving me a fifty-point / 1 ½ ounce bonus.
But while alcohol helps you pass out faster, it interrupts your REM sleep, so you really don’t get as good a night’s rest. The sauce isn’t the sedative some people think it is. I read this in a chemistry book. See, when I really have trouble sleeping, I crack open my old organic chemistry texts and try to get a grasp on the anti-Markovnikov rule regarding the hyperconjugation of double-bonded carbons… or… alkenes… and then… I’m… *yawn*..........
Oh, sorry. Where was I?
Well, let me wrap this up. In an attempt to find a moral in this random stream of (un)consciousness… what have we learned from all this?
Flirt with bartenders, but avoid leading ‘em on. Don’t drink booze when you’re sleep-deprived. Being sleep-depraved, however -- or over-rested -- is a good thing. Hell, it’s what I strive for. And finally… drunk, sober, tired or awake… don’t even try to out-KWYJIBO Mikey at Scrabble.
Over-rested? What the fuck is that? You can be too thin or too rich, but too rested? Over-rested seems to me like being over-sexed. Well, on some fortunate occasions it happens, but that ain’t something to complain about. “Jeez, I am saturated with sex. A surplus of schtupping. No further fellatio! 69ing has already gone over 70.”
I’ve learned that I require 7-8 hours a night. If I fall behind, then I have to make it up. So yeah, if I go several nights with only a few hours… the next day there’s a good chance I need to extend my stay in Slumberland for more than half the day. Or make several long visits in a row.
Like lately. Last night I was so tired, I didn’t think I could stand up in the shower. So I took a nice long bath and started dozing off in the tub. Fortunately, breathing bubbles woke me up and I crashed into bed, slept through 2 alarms before the third one got me up and to work late as usual.
Then at lunch today I went to my friend’s place and napped on her couch, coming back to the office late again. Some of my fatigue is due to all my work early in the week, but I prefer to blame her.
We hung out last weekend at our favorite Mexican joint. She flirted with the bartender and got us super-strong margaritas. But she stupidly gave the guy her number… so when we went back there again, he was all pissed off that she didn’t return his calls, and this time our drinks were watered-down, weak & wussy. Pendejo.
So much later, craving some booze but wanting to keep it mellow, I challenged my neighbor to a game of Scotch Scrabble. Every fifty points, you gotta do a shot. I kicked ass, scoring 430, thanks to two bingos (using all 7 letters), each giving me a fifty-point / 1 ½ ounce bonus.
But while alcohol helps you pass out faster, it interrupts your REM sleep, so you really don’t get as good a night’s rest. The sauce isn’t the sedative some people think it is. I read this in a chemistry book. See, when I really have trouble sleeping, I crack open my old organic chemistry texts and try to get a grasp on the anti-Markovnikov rule regarding the hyperconjugation of double-bonded carbons… or… alkenes… and then… I’m… *yawn*..........
Oh, sorry. Where was I?
Well, let me wrap this up. In an attempt to find a moral in this random stream of (un)consciousness… what have we learned from all this?
Flirt with bartenders, but avoid leading ‘em on. Don’t drink booze when you’re sleep-deprived. Being sleep-depraved, however -- or over-rested -- is a good thing. Hell, it’s what I strive for. And finally… drunk, sober, tired or awake… don’t even try to out-KWYJIBO Mikey at Scrabble.
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