I need my five-hour sleep

I don’t do naps, naps are cheap. Although I must admit that people who take naps are the most courageous if not the most audacious of humans but that does not make napping a hobby more respectable than poking booger or making sound from the vacuum created inside one’s clasped armpits.

An eight-hour sleep, on the other hand, especially these days, is a luxury only a royalty can have. For those who are situated barely above the poverty line and sometimes even falling below, giving in to sleep means giving up precious time earning to eke out a living. For a poor twenty-something like me, I know I cannot afford a sleep longer than five hours. A long sleep is expensive but truly invigorating just like your truffle, caviar, and cold champagne. Regardless, I’m sure I can live without these finer things in life.

I have less than five hours of sleep every day, but when I do I make sure I sleep like a baby which means surrendering all my cares to the cruel world. If the world burns in hell, Noah’s great flood drowns mankind and his banality, or the Christ comes the second time around, and fortuitously I’m in the middle of my five-hour sleep, I would then rather get toasted, bloated, or not resurrected than not have my sleep.

I’ll never exchange my five hours sleep for anything. I’ll sleep my five hours of sleep.