Aspergers on my (not so) secret obession

Posted: August 3, 2012 in comedy
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Some obsessions are easier to keep secret than others. For example, a fetish over tall girls is not quite as obvious as a fetish about blondes. An obsession over bottle caps is much easier to hide than a collection of limbs (tribute Dexter). Previously in my blogs I mentioned my secret obsession over card games on the computer, which to be honest is now more about Hearts than solitaire, although I appreciate all the solitaire requests on Facebook.

People have different ways they like to spend their day some people like to go biking, some people like to play the guitar some people (used to) like to fly kites. None of these activities are my favourite thing to do in the afternoon. Even stand-up comedy does not hold a candle to my favourite activity. No my all time favourite activity is napping.


I could make up an excuse which would have some truth to it like that having Aspergers makes everything that much harder and that much more exhausting therefore, it is natural for me to need to sleep more. However, I have had Aspergers all of my life therefore, my body has had ample time to adjust to the additional demands and therefore shouldn’t need anymore rest than anyone else. Some people might say napping is a sign of laziness and a sign of moral weakness. I respond to them so what??

Deciding what the most delightful part of a nap is hard. Is it the sinfulness of it. Is it the chance to rest your head on a pillow and close your eyes and go into a comatose state of meditation that is so wonderful, or is it the pure warmth of the blanket as it covers your body that makes one feel safe and loved and untouchable, for a brief while at least.  

Some people fight against sleep and say stupid things like they will sleep when they are dead, or that sleep gets in the way of life and partying. What I say is if death is like taking a long nap that you don’t need to wake up from, than what is this annoying thing called life that keeps getting in the way.


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