I have a rule about naps.
On a work day, if I really need to nap, it can be for no longer than an hour. Otherwise I never get to bed again and become a bundle of nerves, counting, with each half hour, how much longer I have before I am supposed to wake up for work. It's a sucky situation at the best of times, especially since I get up at 5:30 am.*
I'm usually very good at setting my alarm, or my Better Half, to get me up in good time. I emerge groggy, but slightly less drained than I was before. I putter around for a bit, all confused and squeaky, until my housemate Fran sees me and laughs. She loves to catch me after a nap, and admittedly, it's pretty funny. I am hopelessly disoriented, and I repeat things. Badly.
Fran: Are you sleepy?
Fran: Did you have a little nap?
Now it is 7:09 pm, and I remember crashing at 5 pm. Which means I am fucked. I won't get to bed before 1 am, so I will have a tidy four hours of sleep again. Why this needs to happen the week of a Cabinet shuffle is beyond me. I should be aiming for strategic zombiness. Instead I am in a constant state of "whaaa....?"
Hey, do you think an entire bottle of wine will put me to bed a bit earlier? Because that's what I choose to believe as of right now.
*Not for long! I got a new job. With normal people hours. And an in-house gym. Happy me!