Back to bed

I am many things. Funny. Good looking. Talented. Creative. Compassionate. Encouraging. Well read. Kind to children. Nice to the waitstaff. A catch as a husband. Someone who loves doing laundry. And loading a dishwasher. A good friend. A trusted confidante. An excellent driver. A great kisser. And definitely humble.

However one thing I am not now, nor have I ever been, is a morning person.

Mornings are just a cruel tease. Being a late night person, I rarely get to sleep before midnight or one in the morning. I say sleep in the loosest sense of the word. It's been years, literally, since I've slept eight hours straight through. I get up to pee. Or I startle awake from a dream. Sometimes I'm just restless and watch some TV at three in the morning to take the edge off (because nothing takes the edge off like skin care and exercise equipment infomercials). Occasionally my eighty-five pound German Shepherd launches himself up on the bed in the middle of the night.

That gets the old ticker going.

Oddly enough, one thing that never, and I do mean never, keeps me awake is work. I think it comes from so many years as a freelancer. But the second both feet are out of the office, I don't think about anything related to work until I have to be back the next morning.

And we know how I feel about mornings.

The point of all this, and there is one, is that right around the time the faintest sliver of sunlight starts to hit the pitch black night sky is the exact moment I actually manage to get myself back to the deep, still sleep I've been craving all night. It finally arrives just in time for sunrise. Ironically when I'm finally completely out, it's time to wake up.

There's no gradual, gentle, coming-up-from-the-bottom-of-the-pool kind of awakening for me. Because I know how deep asleep I am in the morning, the alarm has to be more than a light bell, chirping birds or a digital alarm. No, my iPhone alarm is Uptown Funk. It comes on loud, and it's a straight up jolt out of bed. In fact, I have to kiss myself I'm so pretty (see what I did there?).

So if you see me at work in the morning around nine, dragging myself around, looking somewhat foggy and I don't return your smile or your hello, don't ask how you're doing or what you're working on, please don't take it personally. I promise I will.

Sometime around eleven.

Pod squad

You simply cannot overestimate the rejuvenating effect of a serious power nap.

This is apparently something the fine people at the Abu Dhabi airport appreciate. They've installed these GoSleep sleeping pods that you can rent for an hour, or a few hours, and catch up on some shut eye while you're waiting for your connecting flight.

The beauty of these beauties is they recline 180 degrees, and you can leave them partially open or close them completely to block out the light and noise.

When they're completely closed, they look like those plastic pencil cases we used to use in elementary school. So, not just sleep friendly. Also retro chic.

I think the reason these appeal to me so much is because I haven't slept eight solid hours in years (I love my kids, I love my dogs, I love my kids, I love my dogs, I love my kids, I love my dogs...). So if there's even a chance, a glimmer of hope, the slightest possibility I can do some catching up, I'm happy to fire up the charge card, lay myself down, close myself up and sleep tight for as long as I can.

If it turns out that these pods really provide the rest they promise, I'll literally roll out of bed, go to the airport and roll back into bed.

Of course, airports aren't the first ones to appreciate what an quick nap can do for you.

And if you work in an ad agency, you know they're not even the first ones to have sleep pods.

Pillow talk

I hope you people appreciate the risk I'm taking showing you an actual picture of our bed without the wife's knowledge or permission. If by some off chance she was actually okay with it, I'm sure at the very least she'd want it in pristine shape, and made so tight you could bounce a dime off it.

You know, the way I make it every day.

At least she'll be happy I cropped the shot so you can't see the rest of the room, which is appropriate given the topic at hand. That topic is pillows. Lots and lots of pillows.

I'm not quite sure when it became au courant to have a ridiculous number of pillows on the bed, but it's been going on for a long while now. At some point, the mere act of hopping into bed turned into a downey, feather filled archeological dig to find the mattress.

In case you can't quite tell, we have nine pillows on the bed. For actual sleeping there are two king size and three medium pillows. For decoration there are two large and two small square pillows. This means every night four pillows have to come off the bed, and every morning they have to go back on.

When I was growing up, I had two small, plain pillows covered in low thread count pillowcases. They were extremely malleable, and I could pretty much scrunch them into any comfortable position I wanted.

What I didn't have was an actual bed. We lived in apartments all my life, which meant even though I was an only child and should've had the big room, I usually had the small one. To make sure I could actually walk between the end of the bed and the wall, most of my formative years I slept on a Riviera Convertible Sofa.

I think a lifetime of lower back problems is a small price to pay for a little more room in a little room.

Anyway, I wish going to bed was just a little easier. Yes I realize that moving a few pillows off the bed isn't exactly lifting rocks. I also know it isn't really a big deal in the larger quilt of life (see what I did there?).

I think the lesson here is next time I think about writing a post about something so trivial, I'll stop and sleep on it. If I can find the bed.