Monday, August 16, 2010


I love to sleep. You may not believe me when I say that because I seem to sleep so little, but it's true. There are very few things I love doing more than sleep. In fact, I'll list those things, plus a few others for context.

Andrew's Favorite Things To Do

1. Grow a beard*
2. Find $20 on the street
3. Sleep
4. Wrestle with my dog
5. Eat a 100-Grand bar
6. Sneeze
7. Talk Phillies/Eagles with fans in strange lands
11. Swim a 200-yard breaststroke
12. Climb Tunitas Creek Road via bike
Dude, where's my car?
13. Host, organize and/or facilitate good parties
14. Play Drinkball
20a. Relate real life to Seinfeld
20b. Quote Seinfeld
21. Fit favorite number into everyday conversation
22. Listen to music
23. Drink good beer (Bell's FTW!)
724. Clean the bathroom
725. Spend time in airports
4,437. Sit in on meetings
10,493. Drink shitty beer
10,944. Take public transportation
6.02 x 10^23. Eat brussels sprouts
. Get paged (added after Sunday)

* - Hypothetical. I can't actually grow a beard.

As you can see, I'm a fairly simple person. As you can also see, sleep is third on that list. There are only two things I enjoy doing more than sleep and one of them's not even possible. (Sigh.)

Anyway, the question I get most often is, "If you like to sleep so much, why do you get up so ridiculously early all the time?" Well, the answer's simple. Sleep when I'm not tired is not so great. Sleep when I'm exhausted is super great. I enjoy sleep so much that I deprive myself of it in the name of future enjoyment. If you get too much sleep, it loses it's luster, kind of like foul language in a Tarantino movie.

As it turns out, "sleeping" also trumps "writing blog posts," so... that's it from me today!


Ironically, I wrote most of this post on Saturday afternoon before my sleepless Saturday night/Sunday morning of epic ultra crapitude. I don't typically write drafts and save them for later. I'm not sure why I did this time... but yeah, the irony kills.

For those of you who don't follow me on Twitter, I helped a friend throw a party on Saturday night. Two hours after hitting the sack, my phone started, how they say, "blowing up." It was work. Something was broken.

Insert enormous string of profanity here. I had to go into the office at 5 AM on a Sunday morning and spend four solid hours troubleshooting and work-around'ing. (Side note: you'd be surprised [or not] how quiet the office is at 5 AM on a Sunday.)

I knew if I went to sleep afterward, I'd screw my whole schedule up pretty good. Instead, I stayed up, got my usual workouts in (a swim and a ride) and generally lived in zombie-mode until after dinner. Then I closed all of my blinds and crawled into bed before the sun went down for some of the 10 best hours of sleep I've ever had.