Apr 27, 2007

You are (not) getting sleepy ...

By Malcolm Fleschner / Humor Columnist

These days, with so many demands on our limited attention - e-mails, cell phones, text messages, Blackberries, trying to remember to TiVo this week's episode of "Dancing With the Stars" - we often risk losing our sense of self in the process. In fact, many Americans today report that they rarely find time away from the distractions of modern life for quiet reflection and contemplation.

If this description fits you, don't fret. There is a simple solution guaranteed to provide even the most harried individuals with ample time to be alone with their thoughts: it's called insomnia.

As any of the nation's 60 million insomniacs will tell you (albeit groggily), one core benefit of insomnia is the uninterrupted span of hours you get to enjoy at night, lying awake with nothing to pass the time but your thoughts. As your mind wanders, you'll find yourself dwelling on all sorts of subjects, ranging from "Why can't I fall asleep?" and "I can't believe I'm still awake" to "God, I wish I could sleep" and "Why the %#@* can't I just #%&@!*$ fall asleep already?"

But don't worry that all this quiet alone time will be consumed exclusively by pondering whether a swift blow to the head with your bedside alarm clock might provide the sleep you crave. That's because insomnia is also terrific for addressing other pressing tasks you've been meaning to get to, like taking a few hours to endlessly replay some teeth-grindingly bad Barry Manilow song you can't get out of your head. After all, what better way to spend the night than by staring at the ceiling while your brain repeatedly recounts the musical tale of poor Mandy, whose only crime was that she "came and gave without taking." Of course, jerk that you are, you sent her away. Oh, Mandy.

Sadly, there is a downside to all this quality "me" time Americans are getting. In fact, many experts attribute a host of society's ills to lack of sleep, including thousands of additional traffic accidents, health problems like obesity and diabetes, and the skyrocketing incidence of memory lapses among government officials testifying before Congress.

"I'm sorry Senator, but I didn't get much sleep last night, so I'm having a little trouble recalling just whose decision it was to paint the words 'Democrats Suck' on the side of the Space Shuttle. However, if it would help, I can share with the committee all the lyrics to 'I Write the Songs.'"

Employers are also paying a price for our national sleep troubles in the form of lost productivity, industrial accidents and computer equipment malfunctions caused by workers falling asleep and drooling into their keyboards. To combat this sort of on-the-job drowsiness, today many forward-thinking companies are giving office workers opportunities to catch up on sleep with initiatives featuring names like "employee nap time," "workday rest breaks" or, as the practice is already known at many organizations, "staff meetings."

Having spent the last few years battling insomnia myself, I'm all too familiar with the problems associated with sleep deprivation. Or at least I think I am. Frankly, my memory isn't what it used to be anymore. But I do remember that when my sleep troubles started, I responded the same way I do to most problems: by trying to blame someone else.

"Honey, all that breathing you're doing is really keeping me awake," I told my wife. "Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale - all night long I have to listen to this. How am I supposed to sleep with all that racket?"

To her credit, she took immediate steps to correct the problem, magnanimously insisting that I sleep on the living room sofa for as long as I needed to.

When this didn't solve the problem, I sought help at a nearby sleep clinic and enrolled in a workshop with a dozen other insomniacs that met every Thursday after lunch.

Talk about a lively bunch! In these meetings, which I referred to as the Afternoon of the Living Dead, we all shared our tales of sleep woe with one another while an instructor walked around the room dispensing sleep tips along with jolts from a stun gun to keep us from dozing. One participant complained that she hadn't enjoyed a decent night's sleep since her son was born. Her 45-year-old son, that is. Others talked about popping Ambiens like Corn Nuts but still not getting any sleep.

Frankly, after a few weeks of listening to how bad these other folks had it, I started feeling like Rip Van Winkle by comparison. And while my sleep troubles didn't immediately melt away after the workshop, I can say that my sleep has improved at least to the point where today, even if given the opportunity, I might not throw a punch at Barry Manilow.

Can't sleep? Then e-mail your woes to Malcolm Fleschner at


Malcolm@CultureShlock.com, who may respond once he wakes from his nap.