As my wife – and all my exes – will attest, I’m really good (at staying) in bed. I’m not one of those weirdos who jumps out from under the sheets at the crack of dawn, ready to seize the day: my modus operandi has always been to remain horizontal for as long as possible, screeching “five more minutes” to anyone who tries to rouse me. Some may call it laziness; I call it self-care. After all, sleep is restorative. Quality sleep adds years to your life and is great for your mental health. Why wouldn’t you snooze for as long as you can?
Because you have a job that requires you to get up early, that’s why. Or because you have anxiety-induced insomnia. Or because you have a child who won’t let you sleep a minute past 6.49am. As I have come to realise, sleep is a luxury item. I used to take slumbering for granted, but now that I’m the mother of a hyperactive toddler (is there any other kind of toddler?), sleep is something I would pay a pretty penny for.
