Sizing up the Enemy

Sleep has been my sworn enemy since, well, since I emerged from my mother's womb.

If I could make my body never require sleep again in exchange for, oh, jumping up and down on a sharp tack twice a day, I wouldn't hesitate to take the offer. That is how much I hate sleep.

First of all, nighttime is my peak time. I love nighttime and early mornings. Once the sun has completely emerged and is reaching into the sky, the day looks ugly, but under the stars and moon, and in that early pre-dawn light, the earth is full of wonder and beauty.

In a 24-hour world where time did not matter, I would sleep from about 4 or 5 am until about 10 or 11 am. I would work from noon or so until 8 or 9, and then I'd have 8 wondrous hours of nighttime to myself.

But in a perfect world, I wouldn't sleep at all. I've always felt that sleep is an immense waste of time. Imagine all you could get done if you didn't have to sleep. Instead I waste hours of each day lying around in bed, and then another few hours trying to recover from the exhausting weariness of sleep's death grip.

But alas, not only is this not a perfect world, it is not (yet) a 24- hour world. My body does require sleep, and most jobs, stores , schools and social events worship at the altar of an 8-5 timeclock.

So for now, I'll work 10-hour days, showing up by 9 or 10 a.m. because people seem to think that's the thing do to, and staying until 7 or 8 p.m. because that's when I really get my work done; I'll attempt to force myself to go to bed before 2 a.m. whether I'm sleepy or not; and I'll annoy my poor husband with 14 different alarms, ringing off and on for 3 hours, give or take, every morning as I attempt to wrest my consciousness away from sleep's captivity.

Thankfully I have a patient husband.