cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

napmaster h

i can’t nap on the bus in the mornings. the reason why is very simple: i carry a large (16 oz.) travel mug of scalding, strong coffee to work every day. since i have not yet perfected the art of sleeping while keeping both fists clenched around a big plastic mug, no naps for me.

or so i thought.

this morning, i spent the first half of the commute as i usually do, looking out the windows. since i sit up front – you know, on the sideways seats reserved for “elderly and handicapped passengers” [sic] because no one ever sits there – i get a great view out of the enormous windshield, plus the side window, and even the door if i’m feeling wacky. it’s like a 3D television program, with no dorky dialogue, just pretty pictures. white noise for the eyes, if you will.

this morning, i was looking out the window right before we got to the golden gate bridge, and i thought to myself, “hm, i bet i could balance this mug on this seat beside me and just close my eyes for a moment …”

right-o. well, i didn’t spill anything, honestly, but i napped for more than a moment. more like twenty minutes. out cold. sitting up. head up. no drooling, even. i only woke up, i think, because the mug did start to slip from my fingers and even in my nappened state, i sensed it. this is how i know the following:

i am currently operating at peak napping efficiency. no one, not anyone, can nap as well as i can. people will travel from distant lands – yes, the internet made the world so much smaller, but they’re still distant because i say so – just to nap under my supervision. we will hold nap-ins, we will market special travel mugs that will slip from one’s grip at the proper time, alarm-clocks for fingertips.

i will be conducting another study of my naptitude on tonight’s commute home.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

∞