Oh sweet, sweet slumber.

I don’t know about you, but I love my naps. I’ll take one damn near any chance I get.

Saturday and Sunday are a given. Neither would be their respective day without a nap tossed right in the middle of them. If I get off early during the week, you can bet your ass I’ll be snoozing within an hour of getting home if I don’t have anything else to do. I’m actually in a bit of a post-nap haze as I type this.

I have this one coworker that tells me she hates naps. That they’re stupid and a waste of time, yet she often tells me about the latest episode of the New Jersey Housewives she just watched. This I just can’t understand. Sure, maybe if you’re little kid and are excited about the beautiful splendor that is our world, I could see how a nap would be unappealing, but hey, kids are dumb, we all know that.

Ever watch a baby? They can just sit and play with their toes or a set of keys for hours. They don’t know any better.

Me though? In my old age, I’ve come to realize that while I do enjoy this beautiful world in all of its glorious splendor, I also LOVE to sleep.

I love that confused state you’re in after a particularly long nap when you don’t know what time it is, where you are or what happened. It’s a thing of beauty.

Then you get to get up, stretch and have a cup of coffee. It’s like starting your day off all over again and of course, this works for me because I’m a morning person, so why not get in as many mornings as you can?

My friend Tammie calls me a baby whenever I talk about my naps and maybe I am, but at least I’m not so dumb that I play with my keys for hours.

Where’s my coffee?

Peace!