This note is not designed specifically to be a rant about not having enough time to sleep, but it is more a contemplation of what sleep means to the average person, who never really existed, but exists in great quantities everywhere. Since I fit into the “pretty average” category, I feel moved to share my sleep experiences with the world. I have slept in a good many places where most people don’t think sleeping is appropriate–the subway, libraries, hotel lobbies, several bars, the front lawn, the dentist’s office (in the chair, actually with no help from sleep aids), my car (not while driving), airplanes, buses, trains, my office, class (a huge failing, I know), concert halls (draw your own conclusions), theaters, church. The point is, if I am sleepy and tired, I can sleep anywhere, and I am shameless. There are also times when staying awake, for as much as I would like to, is not an option. I don’t know if you find yourself falling asleep in inappropriate places, but it happens to me on a regular basis. I know what you are thinking: well, if you would sleep at night, you wouldn’t have this problem. First, I’m not sure it’s a problem, and second, I do sleep at night, although I could be a bit more diligent about getting to sleep earlier. Yes, I’m at fault there. I just love the late night hours for their calm tranquility, strange television shows, odd movies, and the quiet that comes after midnight when you can finally read a book or write a new paragraph without being interrupted by someone or something. During the day, my body and mind will conspire to put me to sleep at the most inopportune times and places, but a quick twenty minute nap can be most helpful. Sleep, that weird and creepy simulacra of death, is such a comforting cocoon for the mind and soul that closing your eyes and letting everything go–control, light, thought, motion, volition, agency–and cloaking life in darkness and unconsciousness is a odd swap, like turning off a light switch and being bathed in complete darkness. Sleep blots out so many things–emotion, pain, worry, envy, hate, loneliness–that it is often a great antidote for what ails you. Yet insomnia is tiresome, painful, and a curse because for some reason, you can’t stop the wheels from spinning, you can’t pull the cloak of darkness over your head, and you can’t stop hearing the clock in the study as it ticks off the dark hours of the night and you are still awake. Sleep is that moment when you can stop worrying about the kids, not think about work, forget about your sore back (shoulder, neck, leg, wrist, shoulder, knee), stop contemplating your next writing project, forget about changing jobs, fixing a leaky faucet, the funny sound the car is making. Sleep relieves you from all the daily bothers that can keep you from thinking about all the wonderful stuff in your life. And when you don’t sleep enough, you get edgy and irritable, unhappy and cranky, and nobody wants to be around you. Sleep deprivation makes you irrational and useless to everyone around you. At some point, you must curl up with a pillow, put your feet up, close your eyes, and forget everything, leaving yourself vulnerable and unprotected while your consciousness swims off into that great maelstrom of the unconscious void. So I will continue to sleep when inappropriate, but if you see me sleeping, this is not a critique of either you or the situation. It’s just me recharging my conscious batteries for a moment. I’ll be back presently. My mind has just gone off for a moment to be somewhere else. I’ll be back.