The chump who coined the phrase, “You’ll have plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead,” is probably already in the grave.
If you’re a 9-5 worker bee you might want to look away. All others, let’s study some scientific data. Over the past week the earliest I have woken up is 1:30pm. The latest is today at the sparkling hour of 3pm. Some would call this lazy behavior. I call it deep sleep research. I’m not just talking about the time spent sleeping but how that ample rest effects wide-awake moments. Falling asleep (which has been occurring no earlier than 5:30am) with the knowledge that you’ll wake up when you’re ready and no earlier is a fantastic feeling. I personally drift much deeper without the ticking hands of time hovering over my horizontal head. When I do enter the world of the living I’m much more prepared to slay dragons and chop e-mail blocks.
There have been other times in my life when I’ve enjoyed a relaxed schedule. As lads my brother Derelict and I would visit our Dad on summer vacation. Our days were filled with low-pressure living. We would crack our sleep encrusted eyes open to the late afternoon and roll slowly to the living room where our still sideways bodies absorbed hours of Yo! MTV Raps and kung fu flicks. Nothing got in the way of our loose lifestyle except the occasional visit to an amusement park. On those special days we zombie strolled to the car and crashed out until arriving in Goofy Lot Q or Yosemite Sam Orange. College was another period of suspended animation, which you would fully understand if you saw how tightly I hugged my bong.
These days I am comfortable in my subconscious skin. Upon arising I fill my hours with excitement. I stretch, do some sit ups (to counter my heroic beer intake), sip mint tea, watch the Tour de France, take a shower, and stroll to the store only to catch a parade of haggard souls making their way home after a dreary day behind desks. I spend my evenings staying busy and slip under the sheets with the bright morning light. At home I’m more of an early bird but in this foreign setting I’ve decided to loosen the strings. Maybe I’m just staying close to LA time so when I return I’ll be up with the milking of the cows and in bed right at twilight. Or, maybe I’m the laziest son of a gun you’ve ever seen. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
(from summer 2005)