Studies show–or TV tells me that studies show–that you spend one third of your life sleeping. For so much of the minuscule amount of time your flesh vessel exists on this massive ball of undulating water, air, and land bobbing around a dark and unknowable ether, you are unconscious. Temporarily dead. Totally vulnerable. In this series, I will explore where this special time can be spent–beginning with one of my own beloved napping spots on a campus as strange and unknowable as this universe.
(JK I’M A JUNIOR I KNOW EVERY INCH OF THIS INSANE, FLOWER-SMOTHERED SCHOOL)
Third Floor Windowsill Wonderland (of slumbering)
I’m always exhausted after I hike up to the third floor of McCabe, so when I come here I’m already primed for a nap. I only take 20-40 minute slumbers here, as it is impossible to get completely horizontal. I sit down in one of the two blue chairs that face each other and look down to the garden, placing my phone on the oversized windowsill, slowly becoming relaxed by the thought that I am sandwiched between all those flowers and the oversize section of art books.
If I died in my sleep or something, at least my corpse would be close to pretty things. People would think I was contemplating the perspective of Giorgio de Chirico paintings instead of setting my iPhone timer to 26 minutes before falling into a light but refreshing sleep. The chair is deep, and I fold my body like a person who wishes they could curl up like a cat. Really, it is a magical spot because it always happens–I always drift off into a pleasant stupor. I never fail to fall asleep and wake up a totally new person. Or at least a person who might actually crack open one of those giant art books.
Featured image courtesy of sleepingswatties.tumblr.com.