We all need it. We cannot function well without it.
What happens, though, when you don’t get enough of it?
I love to sleep. I look forward to my lazy-day weekends when getting out of bed during single-digit hours is just unheard of. There’s nothing I like more than to snuggle under a warm, soft blanket and drift back off into dreamland in the post-dawn hours of the morning.
Since I made the move into couples-land, I’ve not seen much sleep lately. It’s not that I’m not getting any sleep. I do go to bed at a fairly reasonable hour for a night-owl. However, I’m waking up a bit too early than I’m used to. I’m what you call a snooze-button sleeper. I absolutely cannot awaken from a deep sleep and expect to function three seconds after the alarm buzzer goes off without serious repercussions. During my morning wake-up ritual, as I am pressing the snooze button multiple times, I am silently calculating in my head precisely how many times I can press it before I’m considered to be “running late”. This routine allows my body and my mind to wake up slowly and not be shocked into the morning get-up rush. On average, this ritual may last anywhere from 20-40 minutes before I feel I’m ready to tumble out of bed. As crazy as it sounds, I do feel more refreshed by slowly waking up and allowing my body a few extra minutes of quiet rest time.
The boyfriend, however, awakens as soon as the alarm goes off and he is ready to start his day. This is his routine, something he’s done long before I came along, and it works for him. For me, not so much. When he wakes up, his dog also wakes up; we’ll affectionately refer to her as the pita-dog. She immediately starts pacing the floor, anxiously waiting for him to let her outside and give her a morning dog treat. Meanwhile, I’m trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep as lights are turning on, doors are opening and closing and there it starts…. the boyfriend’s morning routine. I hear the water in the sink and the sound of an electric razor. Water in the shower is turned on to warm up and suddenly there is heavy breathing. Pita has just come back into the room and she’s a noisy dog. After devouring her morning snack, she plops herself down in the middle of the floor and proceeds to make licking and slurping noises.
So, here I am. My morning of quiet and slow-waking-up time has been filled with lights, doors, water and Pita. I reluctantly reach over to the alarm, ready to push the off button. This morning I just don’t have the heart to do it, so I press the snooze button one more time knowing that my attempt at a few more restful minutes will be anything but that.