The call of the Chair

I love naps. Much like a cat I could curl up anytime, anywhere, close my eyes for a few daydreams and be out for more than forty winks. I just love to nap. On the couch, on the floor, in a chair, under a desk, on the grass, inflatable beds are lovely, if I could fit on a windowsill I'd be all over it.

Ironically, as easy as it is for me to nap in the most noisy and uncomfortable places, I have difficulty sleeping in an actual bed. Perhaps it's the ritual of getting ready for bed, or maybe the fact that bedtime is so set: "You are lying in bed, you must sleep." Whatever it is, it takes me hours, literally hours, to go to sleep in a bed. Lights need to be off, curtains closed, doors locked, noise must be minimized and the temperature needs to be perfect. And even in ideal situations I will lay there, still as I can be, trying to shut my brain off. There are a lot of buttons in there. You just can't go to the Start Menu and choose "shut down". Instead you have to turn off the bills and money section, then the decisions, the stories, the jokes. You need to wait till the conversation processor slows down and the work matrix has finally flatlined. Still there are tons of ideas floating around up there that need to find a resting place before my eyes get heavy and my muscles relax. But by then I can feel it, just on cusp, sleep is there. My tongue gets heavy and my skin warms...I'm ready...something else will take over for me, make me inhale and exhale, choose where I will roll and what position to stay in - the unconscious Katy has been prepared dreams and images all day - and she's ready for her performance. In a few seconds I'll sleep.

That's usually when my husband comes to bed...or wakes up, rolls over and squeezes my nipple (that's called fore-play). In anycase frisky or not, I'm up. There are two, maybe three, critical seconds where sleep would be possible again, but I have to get rid of the husband and that takes more than three seconds. Nope, once he has woken me up I have to start the whole process over. Start at money and bills and work your way down. And even then sleep may be elusive. If we did decided to get frisky then it's more than elusive. More than likely I won't sleep that night.

And he wonders why I get grouchy. Last night I tried to bite him.

My sleep grumpiness has doubled lately with the introduction of a new piece of furniture to the bedroom: The reading lounge chair.

Shipped from Sweden to be carried home by college students and people with small cars the reading lounge chair is a shiny kind of birch wood. It sits on bowed planks and bounces back and forth more than it rocks. Accompanying the reading lounge chair is a reading lounge chair foot stool that is perfect for holding folded Mexican blankets...and feet. All in all the reading lounge chair makes a good, bouncy, warm, stretched out area for you to read in....and then promptly fall asleep with your book squashing your face.

It calls to me in the morning.

It calls to me in the evening.

It calls, softly at first: Kaaaaaattttyyyy. Oh Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaty. Look at me...here I am with my warm blanket and my soft white lamp. Here I am...no one to rock me, no one to bounce in me. I am all alone Katy. Who will sit in me? Who will use me for useful purposes? and then it's true nature spring forward in a growl that could only come from the farthest depths of hibernation hell: You will nap in me Katy. You will submit, you will obey. Your eyes are heavy...COME...SLEEP!

And I do. Oh I do. How I love to snuggle in that chair, my cat by my side, reading my lovely books till my eyelids can't help but cover my big brown eyes and off to dreamland I go. I can feel the chair hugging me, holding me in whenever I flutter my lashes open. Oh yes...I could get up and do the dishes, I am perfectly capable of folding those towels, but why really? Why leave this warm, snuggly, bouncy chair to do all that? And when I close my eyes to return to my nap - I swear to god that chair bounces me back to sleep.

My husband never bounced me to sleep. He once got me really drunk...but I don't think that's the same thing.

Now when I crawl into bed all I can think of is the chair. Only a few feet from where my pillow lays is napping nirvana. Only a few steps away and I could be sprawled out on the bouncy chair.

The other night I woke up in the middle of the night with a strong urge to get up from bed, walk around the room and go back to sleep in the chair. I was halfway to throwing off the covers when I realize how stupid this is. But the temptation was too strong. That chair is so nice and bed is so...so...bed-like. I spent the rest of the night with my arms and legs wrapped tightly around my husband. Lashed to my mast I listened to the siren song of the chair all night. It sings pretty.

Unfortunately, lack of use makes the chair stronger. I can hear it calling to me at work. Kaaaaaaaty it says It's Friday my little Katy. Soon you will be able to come home to me, your loving chair, and sleep till you can sleep no more.Till you can sleep NO MORE. I think I like the chair cause it's a little dangerous.

I'm gearing up for battle though. When I arrive home there are two choices...I can go and rake the leaves from the yard...or I can curl up in that devilish reading lounge chair and nap for all I'm worth.

I can't tell you who will win, the chair or my love of raking, but no wonder I'm grouchy.

My napping is keeping me up at night!