There is a very good explanation for why I like to sleep so much. I was genetically engineered to need above-average amounts of sleep. When I was five years old, my mother had to enroll me in morning kindergarten so I could still nap in the afternoons, and the habit stuck. It was very difficult during my working years to convince my employers that I needed a nap after lunch. They were not the least bit sympathetic or accommodating, but it wasn’t my fault. I was merely obeying my circadian rhythms—and now that I’m retired, I have permission to sleep as much as I want, and whenever I want. And, I do. Bliss!

Once upon a time, before the Industrial Revolution of the 1800s changed everything, people had very different sleep patterns from what we practise today. Biphasic (two-sleeps) or polyphasic sleep (multiple sleeps) in a 24-hour period was more in tune with our natural rhythms than the monophasic (one long sleep from late evening to morning) that is our habit today. In medieval times, families often went to bed for their “first sleep” after supper, which usually coincided with sunset. A few hours later, they would rise to throw more wood on the fire, visit a friend, or have something to eat and socialize for an hour or two before retiring again for the “second sleep”, which took them to sunrise. The hours were altered somewhat to accommodate shorter days in winter and longer days in summer.

The Industrial Revolution ruined everything by demanding attendance during long working hours in factories, six or seven days a week. This permanently altered not only our sleeping habits but our dietary and eating habits. Meals and sleep times were determined by the clock, not by our circadian rhythms or stomach rumblings.

Sometimes I worry, “Am I sleeping too much?” The best part of being retired is the luxury of not waking up until my mind and body are good and ready, not when the alarm jolts me awake prematurely, demanding I get my ass out of bed, push into rush-hour traffic, and be at my desk by 8:00 a.m. These days, I usually get a healthy 8-10 hours each night, and that is often supplemented by a one-hour snooze in the afternoon. It’s lovely.

The people of Spain, with their siestas, understand. Years of conditioning sometimes leave me feeling guilty about that mid-afternoon nap, but if my former employers had just allowed me that little respite after lunch each day, I would have been a much more productive employee. An afternoon nap rejuvenates me for the rest of the day. It would have allowed me to toil on into the evening at peak performance, which would have benefited everyone, and might have even earned me a merit raise.

Afternoon napping benefits us in many ways, including:

• Boosts creativity as it allows our brains to rest and make room for expanded thinking
• Rest boosts productivity
• Improved learning capacity with a rested brain
• Stress on the heart is reduced by 37% if allowed to rest
• Napping reduces cortisol levels, the stress hormone

A couple of times a year (fortunately not very often), if my eyes feel heavy after reading the morning paper, and it’s a gray day outside, I crawl back under the covers for another hour or so of extra kip—with mixed feelings of guilt and satisfaction . . . mmmm! It’s simply another variation on my biphasic rhythms. No apologies.

I’ll never be like Winston Churchill, Martha Stewart or other famous short-sleepers who can get by on four or five hours of sleep a night. It would kill me. Incidentally, Winston Churchill was an avowed afternoon napper. Fortunately, I am now my own boss, and I’m allowed to sleep whenever I damn well feel like it. And I like it a lot. If my door is closed, don’t knock or ring the bell. I’m still trying to train my husband to follow these guidelines. Waking me up in the middle of the night to tell me it’s going to rain tomorrow, or that another Conservative has crossed the floor, does not qualify as a justifiable reason for waking me, but I’m afraid I can’t teach my old dog new tricks. He’s just lucky I love him; otherwise, I’d kill him.

My power lies in being able to recharge my aging batteries, which requires a solid 8-10 hours at night, and a lovely hour in the afternoon, if I’m not otherwise engaged. Blame my mother and that early morning kindergarten thing. It’s definitely one of the best parts of being retired. Sweet dreams, mes chères. My biphasia is kicking in. Are you getting yours?