Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast—
-Macbeth, Act II, Scene II
I have always loved to sleep. Sleep is so beneficial to the body and mind. Americans are generally sleep-deprived, but not me. I almost always get 9 hours of sleep each night; I'm grumpy if I get less, and I'll take more if I can get it. My friends tease me about sleeping so much, but I think it's just because they don't get enough sleep and are jealous that I do!
I will confess, though, that sleep is also my favorite escape. It's far better than alcohol or drugs: when I wake up, I don't have a hangover, and I know where I've been all night! I remember during the second half of my sophomore year, I was having a particularly hard time, and I slept almost constantly. My roommate even wrote me a note of concern. I was sleeping through classes, through job commitments, through social activities. In hindsight, I was depressed and trying to escape a difficult time.
Moreover, sleep is complete escape. I have used some of that escapism during the last four years of chronic pain. If I can sleep, even just an hour's nap, I can be free from pain for a little while. I don't have to go anywhere, or impress anyone, or work on any issues. I can dream (even if it's not good, it's at least different). I can fly (sometimes). I can wake up and start again.
Ahh.... sleepytime... 'night everyone...