Worst Nap Ever

Health care professionals say that something like one-hundred fourteen percent of Americans are chronically sleep deprived, and I'm one of them. Back in college, I got myself into a naughty mid-day napping habit that drives both Mom and me crazy. Mom hates how my perennial lethargy keeps me from achieving maximum productivity (and she's an elementary school art teacher, not a middle manager, in case you're interested) while I realize that I'm generally unproductive whether I'm sleeping or awake but I nonetheless find my dozing off depressing. Think about it: you're supposed to six to eight hours of sleep a night, minimum — which means if you're getting a full night's sleep each and every night, you're spending a quarter to a third of your life in bed. Twenty, maybe twenty-five years asleep total.

It would be nice, I have to admit, to run out of steam at the end of the day instead of in the middle, or to wake up refreshed like I went to sleep with a coffee IV stuck in my arm. I was actually tested for mono, for vitamin deficiencies, for weirdo thyroid problems and came back clean, so the next step was to spend a night in the hospital for a "sleep study," which is where I spent my last night.

It was... uncomfortable. In so, so many ways. Sleep studies take place in the nicest rooms in the hospital, with private bathrooms and full-size beds and a comfy recliner in the corner and a night-vision camera in the room. There's also an always-on microphone, and a nurse-technician who's got the most boring Friday night in history, watching and listening to me sleep. I worried I'd be caught cursing or masturbating in my sleep or something.

The whole sleep observation experience starts with electrodes: four on my legs, two on my chest, and about thirty all over my head. I include pictures so you can mock me. You can also make fun of my electrodes.


Then the technician tells me to fall asleep, which is tough because, first of all, it's not even eleven o'clock yet and, second, I HAVE A BUNCH OF WIRES STICKING OUT OF MY HEAD!!! They get tangled and hold me hostage in bed, and every few hours the technician reminds me over the intercom that I'm not sleeping too well. Gee, thanks. Did the EEG you glue to my skull tell you that? It's not an ideal way to get some shuteye.

Anyway, if I can my hands on that video of me asleep, I'll post some of the highlights, just in case your life is a little too exciting. It also makes a good cure for insomnia.