My Atrophied Arms

I have been alive for approximately 11,578.5 days. That is about 277,884 hours, meaning I have spent nearly 91,701.72 hours sleeping, or 3,820.91 days or 10.47 years sleeping. I have missed 10 and a half years of my life because of sleep. Sleep. Some of it in a crib. Some in my parents arms. Some sleep in my childhood bed. Some on the floor, in the grass, basement, stranger’s bed, couch, car, dorm, hammock, class, work, bar, once on a counter, etc…

What could have I accomplished in these 10 and half years. I imagine that I would be a little further in life. You would think so. I would be 10 years smarter. I would have recognized that teenage angst could have paid off well. My anger has been slowly subsiding, but my patience for stupidity has been grown. I’ve always despised the stupid, but if I had 10 and half more years of stupidity I would have either snapped by now, or developed a personal remedy to cope. Hey, I’ve already started to kick my anger.

I may have written a couple of successful books or scripts by now. I have some things done, but they aren’t successful. Not yet anyways. I could have had time to polish the manuscripts and found the appropriate outlets to ensure their success. I would also have read more and screened more films for “research.” I will continue to do these things, but it may take me 10 more years to be noticed. Sounds like high school and college.

I imagine I would be skinny as well. I would have noticed earlier that my once, svelte physique was turning into a pile of gooey shit. I would have noticed this sooner and attempted to not disgust my wife every time I try to crawl on top of her. I would have run circles around all of these fad diet DVD guys. Unfortunately, in 10 years I will be in my 40s and my metabolism will be weaker than my atrophied arms. I will still attempt to hold on to a bit of athletic dignity. I am really counting on this Star Wars technology to recover and repair my already ancient body.

In 10 and half years from now, my youngest child will be 12 years old. By that time I will have already slept longer than he was alive. Disgusting. Where do we go during this black and sometimes personal picture show? Why is some quick? Why is some slow? It’s all relative. Does it matter. We need sleep to live. Will we ever consciously sleep? In this ever growing American society in which people are measured by quantity over quality we are forced to choose exhaustion over health.

I hope I get at least 12,000 more days. In this time, perhaps people could remember how to slow down. Let the fat be fat and the stupid become smart. Consciously sleep. Make the effort to lay down, close your eyes and try to see dreams. Add to your personal picture show. You would accomplish so much more. Laziness breeds quality or quantity. Which do you want? In the next 280,000 hours I am sure we can come to a consensus.

Please to enjoy.

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