I recently realized that in the post-apocalyptic world, I will be horribly sleep deprived. That is, assuming I actually survive and aren’t eaten by a horde of hungry zoo escapees because I’m too fuzzy brained to realize that the panda coming toward me has run out of bamboo shoots and hey, I’m Asian so I’m basically the same thing (only with more meat. And fat).
When did I come to this realization? I’d say it was probably the last time I was trying to do stuff with my kids, but zoned out because I was rather close to falling asleep. Or possibly the last time I slept in and was late for a session with my personal trainer (I haven’t the foggiest idea why I didn’t set up my appointment time later in the morning–clearly more evidence of my muddled, sleep deprived brain).
It’s probably not as big a deal now, when, in the grand scheme of things, life is fairly leisurely and easygoing. I mean, in comparison to what life will be like after the world bites the dust and we’re running around trying to fend off hungry pandas who may or may not know kung fu. That’s not to say it’s healthy though, because it’s not. After all, I’m less productive, end up sleeping through my alarm, and am just generally cranky. But I’m not running around trying to beat off…uh, things and having to stay on my toes and develop spidey senses just to stay alive.
But let’s face it: sleep deprivation means sluggishness and slow reaction time. When quick thinking and ingenuity might just save your life, having your brain go at the speed of molasses will probably get you killed.
Which means, of course, that I will most likely get eaten by an escaped zoo panda who has substituted me for bamboo.
That actually sounds like a terrible way to go. I should start getting some sleep then, shouldn’t I?