Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole.
~Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I slept in a bed last night for the first time in a long time…at least three weeks. I mostly crash out on the floor or fold up into an armchair, and I wake up feeling substantially less than stellar. I never stay asleep for long. Most nights, I never formulate the intent of going to sleep. My best method for konking out is heavy drinking, so I’ve been doing quite a bit of that lately in the evenings. However, both alcohol and drugs have an annoying chemical rebound effect, so before I know it, I’m awake and restless. Once the sun is up and I’m effectively exhausted, I can usually catch a good nap. I sleep best around 8 or 9AM (just in time for work).
Last night was divine. I put on pajamas, grabbed Grover (my faithful and steadfast companion), crawled into bed, stretched out on the soft mattress, and pulled the covers up to my chin. I didn’t know I felt so rundown, but once I was laying down, I suddenly became indescribably exhausted and weary, as if I hadn’t slept in a year. I don’t think I’ve ever been that tired before. I melted into the mattress and my eyelids became like lead. My bed was fit for a royal palace, and I was so completely grateful for it. It felt heavenly to stretch out and just relax. I let my mind drift where it pleased, but it was emptied of thoughts and distractions; it simply was. I soaked up every minute of the experience until I blissfully fell asleep moments later.