Carole’s rediscovered a love of reading this Christmas and, because I bought her the missing books from The Dresden Files series, she’s now on a rereading campaign to go through all the old ones and bring herself back up to speed for the newer ones.
And a reading Carole is a good thing.
Because it means she’ll happily curl up with a book.
Which means that I can….
It feels like forever since I’ve had a good afternoon nap, like a bloody old person. It feels like ages. So long. Like they were a lost art. In theory huge portions of the year, from March onwards, could have been spent enjoying afternoon naps. But it has not been that way. Afternoon naps have been few and far between.
But it’s Christmas, treat yourself, I thought.
So I did.
While Carole read her books. I napped my little socks off.
The afternoon nap, though, can go one of two ways. It can be the most exileratingly refreshing thing you’ll do. It can leave you feeling refreshed and ready to take on whatever the rest of the day has in store for you. Or it saps all your strength, like you’re Clark Kent wearing Kryptonite undies. You have a short nap, say half an hour or so, you set an alarm to raise you from that slumber thinking you’ll bound from the bed.
Nothing could get you to move. Nothing. Not even someone physically pulling at your limbs would be enough to separate you from the mattress. You feel drained. More drained, inexplicably, than you did before the nap. It’s the weirdest thing. Something which should refresh you leaves you next door to useless and just having to take another thirty minutes to try and shake that off, and then another twenty, maybe another ten after than…
On and on in smaller increments until it’s barely worth it but you’re still in bed, feeling terrible because your nap has not done what your nap was supposed to do.
You get up. You don’t want to, but you do. By the time you’re downstairs again, you’re actually fine and the nap did do you some good after all. The feeling of exhaustion you felt on waking from your nap has gone. You’re up. You’re lively. You’re good to go.
But mere moments ago you would gladly have sold everyone you know for five more minutes horizontally enjoying your bedding.
The human body is a mysterious thing.