The August issue of Reader’s Digest says that Indians are chronically sleep deprived, with as many as 61% sleeping for less than seven hours when the average time should be just over eight. Wow! Eight hours of nightly sleep? What screwed up world do they live in?
The best I could do during my college times was about six hours continuous sleep at all days of the week. Sure, the weekends I would sleep for twelve, but that was probably to fill up the sleep deficit. Anything more than six on a weekday is almost impossible. Where is the time?
During my internship however, there were times when I was so drained that I just had to sleep. Usually that would happen when the previous night I had slept late, and gotten up at my usual 6 AM time and reported to office at 8 AM. Then yes, when I came back home, I just had to sleep by say, 9 PM… And I used to sleep as a log! All communication was shut down then, including the landlines and the cell, and of course, the messengers! That was some beauty sleep!
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Of late, I’ve been having rather uneventful dreamless sleep. For about the past two months or so. Which is rather sad, because you don’t have anything to contribute when you meet other people who are discussing their dreams. Unless you want to and can believably fabricate good dreams. I do not really know why — maybe because I was content, or maybe because I was tired, or what?
Anyway, I had the my first (recallable) dream yesterday night, and I’m damn happy about it. No, I’m not telling you what it was, because that does not matter, the point being that I can dream again!
And the thing that these analysts say, you dream of what’s on your mind, must be kind of bullshit. Cause, for the past two-three weeks atleast, there has been a lot on my mind, almost a chaos, if you’d call it that, but I haven’t been dreaming. Maybe it was too complicated for my poor little subconscious to decipher!
There is one thing that I don’t mind sharing: There were three people in my dream, apart from me. Two do not matter, and the third one does not remind me of any particular person I have known. Which is pretty sad, cause it probably means that my subconscious, and therefore I, is (or am?) not sure who the person is, but I must know who it is, because the dream has no real meaning otherwise. (Actually it does, but I do not want it to be that.)
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As a side thought, my current MSN nick is: “Hello. I’m A Cliché, And So Are You.” Kind of hits you right on the head. Maybe a trackback later…