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Naps are victory

Mom has told me that she never truly appreciated naps until she was in college. I get that. Sometimes when you're a kid, naps are things your parents make you do — often because they may be able to tell better than you can that you need the rest, but as a kid you aren't going to feel that they know better. But once you're an adult, and have more choice in the matter, it can be niiiiice. Can be.

At some point in my adulthood, though, I started having trouble napping. It'd be like my body is going Wait, no, we're not completely exhausted so we're not gonna rest now, let's wait, we have stuff to do, we have at least reading we can be doing while we're lying down, we can think about things even though we can't do anything about those things for now, really we should be up and doing stuff and and and...

It's like I monologue myself out of sleep.

Today was like that. My big job today was a grocery run, three pretty heavy bags plus a couple of boxes of soda I'd carried home from the nearest Fred Meyer; that had been an exertion. I ate a good-sized lunch, really it's probably going to count as dinner too, so my body had digestion to do which it can do while napping, and I had a chance to nap and it's a quiet afternoon and I'm by myself so lie down, it's a good time to nap...

I think I napped, I think. I did, at least, rest. But winding down to nap seemed to take longer than it really should have. But. Nap. Enough of one. Yes.