I have never really been a “napper”. I just always felt horrible after a mid-day nap and therefore never understood their worth. I didn’t like the whole groggy, lost feeling I had afterward. Notice that was all in the past tense. I’ve turned over a new leaf. . . I’ve come to love a little daytime slumber, thanks to my Cynical. He’s a pro, you know. The Russian judges gave him their highest score ever in the napping Olympics. They even stood and applauded.
He’d been preaching the benefits for years, but I refused the peer pressure, avoiding the allure. But finally I caved. I tested the waters with a little snooze. I experimented with a power nap. And then I was hooked. There’s no going back. Over vacation, I was known to take one mid-morning and another in the afternoon. I’m addicted.
It still takes me some time to get my sea legs once I wake up, but I have learned to appreciate how very, very wonderful they can be. I may stagger around a bit, forget my name initially, and rub my eyes for a few minutes, but during the whole sleeping part, where I am toasty warm and completely relaxed, I know it’s all worth it.
We took ourselves one of those naps today after we’d ventured out for a movie and lunch. And I must say, Sunday being a day of rest is a very, very good thing. I think Martha would agree.
Storms predicted tonight, so I am sure I’ll be glad I got a little extra rest before the booming and wind wake this Sleeping Beauty up.