“If you could gain extra time in your life, what would you do with it?” the nice smiley lady at the front of the room asked me.
“Sleep more,” was my immediate answer. My answer which was met with sniggers and raised eyebrows.
Oh, I thought to myself, feeling my cheeks flush a shade of red. Should I have replied with something which had more depth and character? Maybe the answer should have been saving the planet, or helping those less fortunate than myself by raising money climbing mountains and handing them all my worldly possessions?
I was merely being honest. I do need to sleep more. Sleep to me is a blessing. A novelty. A luxury.
We all need sleep, of course I am aware of this. Without sleep one would go insane. But at this present moment in time, I need more sleep. 8 hours would be nice. 8 hours would be heaven!
I have always been the type of person who needs sleep more than the average person. Left to my own devices, I could sleep, and sleep, and then sleep again. That’s once I’ve cleared my mind of all those niggling worries and doubts and stresses and I can actually fall asleep.
I love my (newish, it’s been nine months now) job, but I drink far too much caffeine as a consequence. My alarm bleeps far too early, the journey is long and tiring. But hey it’s a job, it’s a good job and I’m grateful to be employed again after my redundancy episode.
And I can sleep on the trains. I often doze on the trains, my head dangling unattractively in my book or my bag. The other day I awoke with my head in a bouquet of flowers, a beautiful bunch of flowers which my friend generously and kindly sent to my office. That was a little embarrassing, not to mention bewildering, when I awoke staring at sunflower petals.
It was a time and work management course where this gaining time question was raised, and made me ponder over my sleeping pattern. But how do you gain extra time to sleep more? My mind wondered for the remainder of the course.
Right on cue, the very next day my alarm rudely and loudly interrupted my sleep. I slammed the off button on my unpopular alarm clock and promptly fell back to sleep. I stirred again 45 minutes later (unfortunately there is no snooze button on my alarm clock and I lost another mobile phone with the capability to snooze, in my gold bag in a black taxi cab) and I felt sheer panic. I realised I had 15 minutes to wash myself and my hair, feed my stomach, dress myself, and catch my bus to the train station. Higher forces must have been working with me that morning, as somehow I managed it.
But I left my house with wet hair and the atmosphere was so chilly that my hair actually froze. I swear that’s what happened. Have you ever heard of such a thing? It turned into a stiff, uncomfortable layer. Life is just one big adventure in the mornings.
But I was right. My answer to the nice smiley lady was honest and heartfelt. I do need to sleep more.
This was made abundantly clear, it was proved a fact of my life, on the morning my hair froze.