I’ve been slammed down with a whopper of a flu in the past three-point-five weeks. I thought I was better, but I tanked again. Which explains my radio silence around here — I haven’t even replied to many of the comments that you’ve so graciously left on my last two posts. Mea culpa, and mea get better soon.
But this little blog was feeling lonely. So I dragged myself artward and dug through my portfolio (which is a fancy word for “pile of stuff”).
I made Nap in the Now a month or two ago, when napping was something I looked forward to. Back then, I was able to do things other than resting, which, right now, is a thought too fantastical to consider.
Actually, I do love napping. I love the idea of falling asleep whenever I’d like to. My sister-in-law, intrepid auntie to our dogs and cats, can sleep anywhere, anytime. It’s a superpower, one that doesn’t require tights and a cape, though superpajamas do make everything better.
I envy this kind of sleeping savvy. When I want to nap, the need for rest has to arm wrestle the Anxiety Trolls for dominance. The Trolls, being trolls, often win.
During these three-point-five weeks of flu, I’ve managed to nap only three times, though I have spent the majority of my days in a non-recreational horizontal position. Which means that I need your help. Quite badly. Here’s your mission, should you choose to accept it.
One: Wish me well. Seriously. I believe in the power of wishes. (I also believe in Dumbo’s feather, which I keep in my wallet.) So, please, rev up your wish engines and give me a squeeze. I’ll feel it from my couch.
Two: Give me your best tips on napping. Not on resting. Lordy, lordy, have I been resting. But napping. Like, actually falling asleep. The kind of sleep where drool pools at the corner of your mouth and you make rude noises you’ll never remember.
How do you do it? Do you have to talk yourself into it? Is there some kind of cognitive-behavioral trick?
You all are expert nappers, I know, because you’re way more evolved than me. So do a girl some justice and share a bit of your napping magic.
Hugs and kisses to you all. Mwah. (I’m not contagious anymore.)