Memories of sleep

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away (Michigan), in a year that started with a 1, in an outfit with shoulder pads, I chaperoned a first grade field trip to a play about Lincoln.

I think it was about Lincoln.

My responsibility was to sit at one end of a row of six year olds and make sure they didn’t escape when the lights went out.

Well. When the lights went out, I fell sound asleep. As far as I know, no kids escaped from my end of the row.

That was during the exhausting years. My girls were small. My career was green. I worked like a fiend. I woke at 5 am each day to try to get a 10 hour work day in before my 8 hour work day greeted me when I got home. Yeah. Those days. I could sleep anywhere. Red lights. Grocery store. Lincoln play. Close the eyes and out. I didn’t even need to put down my head.

I got away with it for years–until I got caught sleeping at a Harry Potter movie. I don’t even remember which one it was but it was boring as hell and I was tired. It was a great nap.

It’s 2 am. Time for a Lincoln-muggle-red-light nap.



4 thoughts on “Memories of sleep

  1. I’ve been trying to figure out when it switched from “being able to sleep anywhere” to “not being able to sleep unless certain things are digested, ear plugs put in, and NO NOISE can occur (even with ear plugs). Don’t understand.

    1. There was no gradient. Switched is the correct word. For decades you think you are a professional sleeper. One night you find out your superpowers have vaporized.

      On the positive side, there is coffee. There are good books to read. There are books to be written. There is dust to wipe up.


      I wonder if there’s a reason it’s dark on this so-called positive side. I think it’s called irony or something like that.

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