All for my Bed
is 7 o'clock in the morning. The temperature outside has plummeted to an
ungodly 50 degrees. All the happy people are still asleep. And I lay in
bed listening to my alarm clock beep and beep and BEEP...
Every morning this happens. I sit in bed trying to come to terms with
the fact that I am me and this is my life and I have to wake up again.
Sometimes it takes 30 minutes for me to reach the foot of my bed, such
is my reluctance to enter the waking world.
I have been struggling with this "sleep issue" my whole
life. It all started when I decided to work instead of going with my
first instinct -- to wander the streets reciting poems for spare change.
Ever since then, my alarm clock has been beeping and beeping and beeping.
Did I mention that the alarm clock has been beeping?
A neighbor of mine drives an enormous truck, one that relocates streets
or something, and he wakes up every morning at 5 a.m. Imagine waking
up before the sun and getting into a big truck to move streets all
day. Every day. Forever. If you ask me, that's a half-step down from
being dead. I wonder if this guy's life depresses him half as much
as it does me.
Having accepted that I can't set the alarm clock for "whenever," I
have settled for daydreaming. And during the course of my daydreams,
I have developed some opinions about the consummate night of rest.
Let's take a look at them, shall we.
Ergonomics. Our bed is a lot like the workplace, only more important.
It all starts with the mattress. If you're going to invest money anywhere
in bedding, make it the mattress. Ride a moped to work if you must,
but buy yourself the most comfortable cloud you can sleep on. Then
cover said mattress with a down comforter. Some people think it's foolish
to spend that much money on a blanket, but they are not connoisseurs.
Trust me: once you go down, you'll never come back.
Air Holes. I recommend an airtight sleeping environment. The trick
is to tuck the comforter under both of your flanks, then under your
feet, and finally under your chin. It's kind of like wrapping a burrito.
If you tuck yourself in properly, you can avoid chill pockets throughout
the night. Of course, you'll have to rewrap your burrito self any time
nature calls in the middle of the night. Avoid large glasses of anything
Darkness. I need it to be pitch black when I sleep. Not just dark
as in the door is closed and the shades are drawn, but dark like a
black hole. Or a hotel room in Vegas. I want to see the sun blotted
out from the sky. When my perfect darkness is disturbed by a ray of
light or a street lamp, I get grumpy and curse Thomas Edison. At least
Edison didn't invent the alarm clock; that was definitely the work
Silence. Just as Oreos need milk, so does darkness need silence. I
prefer the deafening brand of silence that you find sitting at the
bottom of a pool or in a board meeting right after someone belches
the words "excuse me." I keep earplugs on my nightstand in
case the neighbor's poodle begins to fight with its shadow. So it goes.
Rotation. I'm not a sleepwalker, but I am a rotisserie sleeper. I
fall asleep on my back, sure enough, but throughout the night I perpetually
rotate positions. I spend a couple of hours on my back, a couple on
my side, a few on my stomach... I believe that I am pushing my wife's
Neurosis Threshold. By the end of the night, she is ready to shove
an apple in my mouth and roast me over an open flame. I also laugh
aloud in my sleep and occasionally perform standup comedy, which further
disrupts my better half. Speaking from experience, keep still if you
want to preserve your relationship.
Conclusions. I understand that it is the first sign of depression
to prefer the sleeping state to the waking state, but still I wonder
why we don't schedule more slumber into our lives. There is so much
to life that you just can't see with your eyes open. During sleep,
you visit distant countries, tell your boss to get a life, go back
to kindergarten, and reason with your neighbor's dog-all in a single
night. Indeed, only sleep is perfect.
If we are deprived of sleep long enough, we begin to display the symptoms
of schizophrenia. Telling argument, isn't it? I propose that on a lesser
scale, everyone is a little "mad" right now because they
didn't get enough to dream last night. It could be that we are only
hostile toward one another because we fail to embrace the simple truth
that there is very little in life that cannot be resolved by 10 hours
of sleep and a bowel movement.