I’ve been sleeping a lot of these days.

I’ve been sleeping a lot of these days.

I've sleeping in my childhood bed and on tge basement couch in the back-porch hammock and in the glass by the lake and in the passenger of my boyfriend’s jeep.

I've been sleeping through zoom calls and netflix rom coms and charles dickens novels and taylor swift albums.

I’ve been sleeping when i should’ve been working or writing or cleaning or catching up on the news or volunteering online or learning a new language or a new instrument or a new recipe like everyone else is doing.

I’ve been sleeping to recoup my energy from all the late nights and early morning of the past four years and before that , grinding of my competitive ivy league college, and before that striving to get into that college, get on the right track, a kind of pressure i’ve put on myself for longer than i can remember.

It's been twenty-six sleep deprived years, sprinting for something i’ve forgotten or never really understood in the first place.

So now I’m sleeping.

Sleeping to catch up on the past sleeping to store up for the future- more sprinting, but this time with intentional direction.

The sleeping has made me feel guilty and lazy and guiltily lazy and lazily guilty.

Society has trained me to correlate rest with waste. But I'm starting to see that sleep is actually one of the most productive things i can be doing right now.

So that when I re-enter the world, I’ll finally be awake.