I have a confession: I am a sleep eye monster. I sleep a lot. Nearly every night I get the requisite 8 hours of slumber. And yet I yearn for more. I love sleep. I love it a lot. If I could find a way to be productive and make money from the land of nod, you can be sure I'd investigate it thoroughly. Even now, I am in my first week of lucid sleep studies. No, I haven't had a lucid dream yet. To be honest, I've only recalled 3 dreams in the past 8 weeks. But one day soon, I'll be able to harness the genius of my subconscious and discover the secrets to financial and personal success. Or at least how to drive up a hill AND have the aircon on. (It's an old car...)
But my relish of sleep doesn't make me a monster. No. What scares the neighbour's little kids is the sleep that remains. In my eyes. (Sensitive readers would do well to close their browsers now) My body generates enough sleep each day to gather together and fashion into a golden candle. (Yes, that's gross. No, I haven't tried it) In fact, Hollywood made a movie recently based on my apartment. It's called House of Wax. (Well what do you expect from a brain that's quietly melting - with the wax - in 100 degrees' heat?) I shall return when my core temperature drops.