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I have just woken from an unsatisfying nap; I could not get quite to sleep. There is a part of me that believes if I fall asleep in the afternoon I won’t wake until the morrow, thus spoiling what I want to do that day. I fear it is mainly due to neurosis viz. decades my Protestant physiology refuses me a lovely snooze on moral grounds there is work to be done and to stop to take a nap is wicked indolence.

I won’t bore you with the laundry list of ‘must-dos’ as it is as long as my arm and that is not the point here. Letting go of Life to nap – or do nothing productive – in lieu of things needing doing remains a challenge for me.
Mind! A good nap sounds quite lovely; someday I would like to have one. I can imagine the scene: I lie down knowing I don’t have to do or go anywhere, I fall asleep deep, and I wake (say after an hour or two) with the quiet satisfaction of salubrious slumber.

A half-baked nap feels worse than no nap at all, for I feel no refreshment but only the guilt.

It has been a very busy fortnight of work and Red Queen activities; I could use a good nap. Certainly I’ve not slept well for a week. Body and soul both shout out to slow down or else. However, some recusant part of my brain (probably the posterior insula) just won’t have it.  It tells me to drink caffeine and get going. Stirge.

It is about 4PM on a Saturday. I think I will get up, make a cup of tea, and write out the list of to-dos. Someone is about to leave for usher work so I will have the whole evening to get somethings done.  I would start with “walk the dog” but she’s been asleep all day it looks like. It’s a dog’s life. Obviously she wasn’t raised Protestant.

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