History Through A Pillow

I don't sleep normal hours. When I announced earlier this week that I would head to bed early, I went under the covers at 1:30am. And that is early.

On most days, I stay up until around 3 in the morning. Which is fine - I like being awake at night, working and reading when most around are still and quiet. It's less fine when I have to get up at 8 the next morning to go to work.

Because of my immature desire to not let the "real world" stop me from doing what I want to do (have I really changed that much from the four year old kid who wanted to stay up to watch Dukes Of Hazzard every Friday night?), I end up napping. At least once a week, in the late afternoon/early evening hours, upon arriving back home after a medium-length day of work, I catch up on two or so hours of sleep.

Today, while the sun shone in the late afternoon sky, and the pool outside and the park nearby called out to me, as the collected pent-up energy of a week teetered at the edge of the weekend release, when I had the time to do anything I wanted to in this new city I yearn to explore, I napped. If I had been a kitten in a hammock, I would have looked like this:

(yes, I can haz nap. easyart.co.uk)

Two and a half hours of time I will never get back. Restful, yes, and very refreshing. But, to a degree, somewhat regret-inducing. At least until I hit up a German beer garden to celebrate a friend's birthday and I forget all about my time-wasting ways.

Why I Am Awesome: While I slumbered, another state legalized gay marriage.

Why I Am Not Awesome: Last November 4th, I stayed awake all day.