Rip Van Winkle and Other Ungrateful Characters

Yesterday, I came home from work, and all I wanted to do was go to sleep.  I've meant to go running almost every day this week, and it hasn't happened once.  I blame it on the weather, but the truth is, I'm just tired.  We're four weeks into school, but I'm still adjusting to a schedule of seven hours on my feet without down time.  What's that, self?  You want to watch six hours of Amazon Prime a day, like you did during the summer?  Well, tough.  You don't even have time for that over the weekend, anymore.  Not if you plan to see friends or have fun.

This blog doesn't help, either.  Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the daily writing exercise, and I've appreciated all of the positive feedback.  In fact, I find myself looking forward to setting up shop in front of the computer each evening when I come home.  But I also come home each evening planning on getting to bed earlier than I did the night before, and it never happens.  Instead, I harp on word choice and sentence variety and essay structure.  I'm not a fast writer.  It is my curse.

A few years ago, I was really into neurology and psychology, and one of the things that struck me most from my reading was the proven power of a good night's rest: the ability of your body to subconsciously make you calmer, smarter, healthier...

As I pulled into my driveway yesterday evening, exhausted by another full week of work, I wanted that calmer, smarter, healthier.  My first thought was, "Man, I could sleep for a thousand years."  (Well, actually, my first thought was, "Hmm, this Michael Che interview is really interesting.  I think I'm going to sit in the car and listen for a couple of minutes until it's over."  But then I really did want to sleep for a thousand years.)

It got me thinking about stories with sleeping people, like Rip Van Winkle and Sleeping Beauty.  As a kid, there was nothing worse than having to sleep longer than necessary.  Especially on a weekend.  Sleeping in on a Saturday in my house meant unwatched cartoons and cold pancakes (if any at all).  It meant missing out.  These stories follow in the same vein: time lost while sleeping.  These days, though, I can't help but look back on those stories and be jealous.  Oh, to be able to sleep twenty, or a hundred years!

Earlier this year, only two weeks into school, I came down with a cold, and it knocked me out.  I left work halfway through a school day, and upon arriving home, I immediately went straight to sleep and stayed unconscious for approximately 17.5 of the next 18 hours, as though I'd just drank a magic bottle of moonshine (read: NyQuil).  I awoke, suffered through a full day of school, and came home to sleep 10 more hours.  Upon awaking the next morning, I found myself in significantly better health.  It turns out, I just really needed some sleep.

I would, of course, actually hate to sleep and miss out on twenty years of life like Rip Van Winkle did.  I wouldn't want to miss my family growing up and have everyone forget who I am.  But Sleeping Beauty had it pretty good.  I mean, if everyone else was sleeping, too, it was as though time hadn't passed at all.  And a hundred years later, she awakes well-rested to a much-younger, brave, and handsome prince.  I wouldn't mind that right about now.