I’ve been enjoying the journaling prompts from Suleika Jaouad’s, Isolation Journals Project. Day 56 (for the project) prompted that we coin terms appropriate for our times ala the Washington Post’s longstanding neologisms. Here are my ten in alphabetical order.
Cattoyitis: the persistent condition of purchasing various cat toys and scratching posts (often from Instagram) in the hopes that one might engage your cat in independent play and keep it from scratching the couch to hell. All attempts are likely to fail. (see KittyMommyDearest)
DoleScroll: the act of constantly looking and re-looking for job postings in your field of work when you are unemployed due to quarantine. You know that people rarely get posted jobs, but you do it anyway instead of stalking your LinkedIn network.
FelineThistemper: cat behavior characterized by random hand biting or scratching. Often happens during forced Cattoyitis play sessions with KittyMommyDearest.
KittyMommmyDearest: when an otherwise kind, caring cat parent rages at their cat for misbehavior which is actually just the cat being a cat. Exacerbated by constant isolation with only said cat for company which leads one to believe the cat has human reasoning skills (if/then).
Muffintopless: walking around the apartment with jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. The jeans fit fine in March.
NewsBlues: feeling you get from ingesting too much negative news. (see Newsopti)
Newsopti: person who is ever hopeful that the next time they check the news there will be a vaccine, miraculous cure for COVID19, or that humans will be kind to each other and the Earth. (see NewsBlues)
Overhold: the process of putting a hold on too many e-books from the public library’s Libby App and not reading them.
Taxjolt: the realization that the potponed tax deadline approacheth.
WoeisMomMe: 1. the angst of being isolated away from your children. 2. the eye-roll inducing requests from a mother for increased communication by said children.
I can sleep anywhere—anytime.
My father used to assure me that this was a very important skill especially if one was a soldier. In WWII one had to be able to sleep standing up or sitting down, night or day, five minutes or fifty, tired or not because you never knew when you’d have time to sleep horizontally in a true bed when the moon and stars were out.
I appreciated his approval in all things but pursued this skill with a passion, so today, I’m pleased to avail you of five types of naps you’ll want to learn to be successful in life whether or not you are interested in military service.
- The Cat Nap: No cat is necessary for this nap but sunshine is critical. People often misunderstand this nap as a short sleep but nothing could be further from the truth. A cat nap can last as long as the sun warms the napping space. I’ve been known to take these naps on a dock, a patio, a window seat, and on a horse (Don’t try this at home). Like a feline friend, the secret of the cat nap is to a) not care about others and their use of the sun drenched space and b) to be able to wake quickly if threatened. Stretch to your full length permitted by the space. Allow the sun to warm your limbs. Become one with the sleeping surface. Beginning nappers who say they cannot sleep during the day need not try this one.
- Resting Your Eyes: To the everyday viewer, a person who is “resting their eyes” seems to have just recently drifted off to sleep. The accoutrement of daily life is still present. The glasses you wear are still on your face, your book is still open (or the book you were reading to your child), your final paper is open on your computer, the movie is on, or the newspaper is still on your lap (the paper kind or a tablet version). During an otherwise productive moment your eyelids seem to have been replaced by weighted blankets and there’s no way you can keep them open. Your head droops and the next thing you know your child, spouse, partner, friend is jabbing you in the ribs and telling you you were snoring. Check for drool and tell them, “I was just resting my eyes.”
- The Idea Nap: Einstein, Dali and others have been listed as proponents of creative productivity naps. I too like to take idea naps when I’ve come to a question or roadblock in my own creative writing. This type of nap takes some preparation. First, create the optimum napping environment. For me (as previously mentioned) that means anywhere but other less accomplished nappers may need low lights, a comfy pillow, and a soft, warm blanket. Close your eyes. Ask your question to the universe. Example: “WTF is supposed to happen next in the novel I’m writing.” Breathe deeply and imagine the question hovering just above your third eye. When you wake, it will be much later in the day and time to put away your work. Problem solved.
- The Bathtub Nap: Like the nap on the horse referenced above, this requires advanced napping skills as you don’t want to drown. A certain body type is advantageous. My own body is quite long and doesn’t fit in any normal bathtub. That doesn’t stop me from taking baths so warm that my white skin pinks—similar to a boiled lobster. Anyhow, I’m rarely concerned that I will slide under the water. You may find this nap is easier to achieve if you consider it a subset of the “resting your eyes” nap and pair the bath with a book, magazine, or glass of wine. Once the steam does it’s trick you may find you skip the heavy-eyelids step entirely. Next thing you know, you’re as wrinkled as a raisin and not at all clean. Warning: tell a housemate to check in on you if the bath goes on past an hour.
- The Quarantine Nap: COVID19, the novel Corona virus, has given us access to what may seem like a novel nap but actually it is just a tumbleweed of tried and true mental health manifestations including stress, isolation, anxiety, and depression. The Quarantine nap often starts as any one of the taxonomy of naps above but upon waking, the napper looks at the clock, notices how many hours in the day still have to be filled, and chooses to go back to sleep. This can continue any number of times. Resting one’s eyes can become a cat nap when the sunbeam hits which can become an idea nap when the sun shifts and can become a quarantine nap when one decides that the day would be better off done. Movement from one piece of furniture to the next is standard. This nap is harder to accomplish with children in the house. See your doctor if your Quarantine Nap lasts a week or longer.
There you have it. The art of the nap. By the way, I have earned neither fame nor fortune with these skills but if you manage to leverage naps into either, at least credit me when you are rich.
my apartment window
frames the school flag
in the storm.
After two full weeks of being inside
and tripping over my backpack
in the entrance nook
on the way to the kitchen
I decide to empty it for storage.
a small hairbrush
wrappers from a used roll of Tums
a Diva cup
my work planner
a New Yorker with a spring illustration cover
a new monthly MTA fare card