Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Why Sleep Is Bad For You (Me)

Britain is a nation that when not discussing the weather or food, it is talking about how much sleep it's had. We refuse to win when it comes to catching some ZZZs. The number of ZZZs accumulated are always either too few, resulting in caffeine induced mood swings, or too many, resulting in the sleeper being "over tired" upon waking - That strange phenomenon where you sleep so much that it knackers you out. Another term for this condition is "being a student". I am allowed to say this because I used to be one. Not bitter or anything about no longer being one.

Boo you students.

God, I miss drinking snakebites at midday...Made everything so much more interesting.

As I mentioned in a post a few days ago, I've clocked up an impressive amount of hours in the sack this past fortnight because I seem to be on a run of late-starting shifts where I get to rise from my crypt after nine o clock before having to head to work.

Score. Or so I thought.

Getting at least eight hours of coma time a night has not been the refreshing, health-giving experience I'd expected. Quite the opposite. Since starting my run of lie-ins, these things have happened:

- I have developed some kind of aggressive cold that is making my throat, ears and nose itch on the inside, turning me into a meat sack of itchy fury that sounds like it chain smokes.

- I've not been allowed to complain that I've slept too much. Turns out people don't like people who don't appreciate the fact that they've been allowed to linger in bed longer than them. What gives?

- My brain has melted into some kind of jellyfish that cannot function in daylight hours. It only wakes up at about 4am, when it showers me with an array of disturbing dreams that make me question my sanity.

- I have had no motivation whatsoever to move my body any more than is absolutely necessary. And by necessary, I mean when I need to bring food to my face.

Don't sleep, kids. It's bad for you. Because at least when you're kicking your mind's ass with Red Bull, it's stressed enough to think thoughts deeper than "That was a weird dream I had last night. Is lunch soon?"

No comments:

Post a Comment

Hmm? What was that? Tell it to me again, but in the comments box.