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Friday, September 9, 2016

That Sadistic Productivity Mojo

Every so often, I'm able to trick my body into functioning on less than seven or eight hours sleep. During these spells, my productivity intoxicates me. I read more, write more, practice my guitar more, even exercise more. The more I get to, the more I continue to get to. And sometimes I briefly succeed in convincing myself I'm about to become one of those folks who will heretofore need far less sleep than the average person, i.e. I've found a domain where I can step off the bell curve.

Unfortunately, the inevitable crash is usually close by. My body searches for what it needs and soon after a two or three day burst - during which I may have gotten to several long-delayed projects as well as deluded myself that I'm hot on Mozart's trail - the next few days are plagued by naps. If I then masochistically tally my weekly sleep total - for example, as I did when my most recent productivity jag had me in a grip - I'm right back on the bell curve. Shit.

A few years back, with respect to hours of sleep, a wise reader coached me to resist fighting what my body needs. I suspect his suggestion would be easier to implement if my productivity mojo never dangled those hot flashes in front of me.

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