Five more minutes, Mom…
Sleep is one of the few things that human beings cannot live without (with a few exceptions).
Most doctors recommend at least six hours of sleep, preferably eight. I would guess that most people follow this guideline fairly closely.
I get, on average, about six hours of sleep a night during the week. I wake up sleepy and sluggish, but a hot shower and I’m usually okay.
But on the weekends, sleep gets its revenge, and I often end up sleeping ten to twelve hours, unless I have an alarm set for something important.
I hate the fact that I need sleep. I hate that I lose six to eight hours a day that I could use to work, learn, read, or something.
And I hate that when I’m actually in bed, and comfortable, that I don’t want to get up because it feels so good. It makes me feel like a hippocrite.
If I was given the chance to magically change my physiology so that I didn’t need to either sleep, eat, or breathe, I would choose sleep. I rather like eating (as my previous post shows), and breathing has never really been a bother.
But sleep. If I could ditch that, I would. Not that I would never sleep again - I would. Just not as much, and only when I had good reason to.
Besides, I usually don’t feel rested when I wake up from ‘a good night’s sleep’. Just annoyed.