Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Putting the Nap in Snap Response

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Putting the Nap in Snap Response

Article excerpt

Byline: gary bainbridge One man's struggle with the 21st century. Follow Gary on Twitter @Gary_Bainbridge or email him at

IAM a massive fan of sleeping through the night in the same sense that I am a massive fan of long division or backward somersaults. I am impressed when people can do it, but incapable of doing it myself.

I cannot remember the last time I went to sleep the day before I woke up. Bedtime for me is not about resting, it is about thinking in the dark until my exhausted body launches a coup against my brain and switches it off.

If the thoughts I had while attempting sleep were profound it might be worth it for the human race. I would probably have found a new sustainable energy source or a cure for cancer or a way to make the Labour Party electable in this time.

But they are not. They are all "I wonder what would have happened if Frank Spencer had checked in at Fawlty Towers" or "Which Bangor were they going to in the song Day Trip To Bangor - the one in Wales or the one in Northern Ireland? Are there any other Bangors?" or "Who came up with the idea of eating eggs?" Inevitably this takes its toll. The bags under my eyes are so heavy Ryanair could charge me an extra PS25. And probably would.

It means that between the hours of 1pm and 3pm I could happily snooze at my desk if it were not for the fact that HR had to put out a memo once.

I know I am not the only one.

Everybody is tired. You're probably yawning now. Even if you were not, you are now, thanks to the power of suggestion. But the 2pm slump is real. Most people who work in offices suffer from it.

The theory goes that it is a combination of sitting in one place for hours at a time, the rhythms of our body, and the fact that between 2pm and 4pm, the core temperature of our bodies drops, triggering the brain's sleep mechanism.

All of this preamble is to show you, dear reader, that what happened to me was not my fault. It was the fault of whichever buffoon decided that having an hour-long meeting of people who work in an office at 2pm was a good idea.

It was a while ago. I do not want to say how long ago it was, for reasons which will become apparent. …

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