When I first started working an early shift in news radio, I would find myself up at 3 o’clock, 4, 5 in the morning on my days off — unable to sleep. I just couldn’t go back to bed. And taking naps? Forget it. Who can sleep in the middle of the day? Or so I thought.Flash forward a few years, a couple kids and a career and I’m convinced I could sleep for hours at any time of the day in any situation. If only I could.
I’ve looked longingly at the floor under my computer at work and envied George Costanza: Seinfeld’s side-kick who built a bed neatly under his desk.
I’ve made friends with all of the train conductors I see on a regular basis, hoping they will wake me up if I dose off on the commute home from work.
Channing Tatum, Ryan Gosling and George Clooney could all turn up buck-naked on my front porch and I’d tell them to get lost because I’m trying TO SLEEP.
When I do snooze — on my day off — it’s as if I’m trying to set a record.
I’ve crawled into bed around 8 PM, woken up in the early AM, gulped water like a marathon runner and gone back to bed to power-sleep until 10 AM. I’ve turned sleeping into an Olympic sport for which I am certain I would win GOLD. I wake up with creases in my face from the pillow, the mattress dented in a perfect me-sized-shape from not moving for HOURS.
Someday I won’t be tired. Maybe I will even long to be busy, again. But I’m pretty sure that one day, when I am resting underground and Gabriel blows his horn to wake the dead (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17) those of us who’ve worked odd shifts will roll over and say, “Seriously, dude. Ten more minutes.”
This has been an actual conversation in the Man Cave. What’s the Man Cave? Read this.