I ended the Great Polyphasic Sleeping Experiment a few weeks ago, around the end of June. Unlike the other attempts, this time I came out of the other side willfully and with no regrets.
So was it a success? It was, in so many ways. Why did I stop the polyphasic sleeping schedule? Quite a few reasons, some I anticipated, and some I didn’t. I’ll explain in detail shortly, but first I want to talk about the positive things I experienced. Read More
This morning I woke up at 9:23am to “Jarl Ballin’” playing a few inches away from my ear, an unfortunate and unrectified ringtone choice I made back when Skyrim Youtube videos were funny, which was at least a year ago. “Who’s calling me this early?” I wondered. And where am I? What’s my name? Slowly the pieces came together. My name is Brad, I’m lying on the bed in my brother’s ex-room which has since become my mad scientist laboratory/happy place/dark place, and the person calling me is the receptionist at my therapist’s office, wondering why I’m not at my 9am appointment.
Polyphasic sleeping is going…ok.
Is it Wednesday? I’m not sure. I’m in a serious brain fog here. This post will probably reflect that.
So the plan is/was to start with an all-nighter, then begin taking 20 minute naps every two hours, and reducing those by one nap a day until I’ve hit full-on Uberman. In practice, the week’s looked a little bit different so far. Read More
Real life cheat code? Or perpetual lack of sleep mode?
I’m about to convert to a controversial sleeping algorithm. Here’s a little background, some observations, a few bad jokes and a pie chart.
I’m a shameless whore for the latest personal improvement innovation. If it promises to revolutionize my life with minimal effort, I’ve already hyped it, tried it, tossed it aside with a growing sense of disillusionment and taken to Facebook to complain about it in the span of a week or two. That’s not to say I regret tirelessly throwing myself at every trending lifehack—there’s a fine line between gimmick and ingenuity, at least it’s there in my Thesaurus, and many things that entered my world on a bandwagon have catalyzed lasting, positive changes in my life. My point is that good and bad, be they juice cleanses, functional fitness home workout DVDs (I don’t care what anyone says, Tony Horton is the man), standing desks built out of random Ikea bookshelves drilled and cobbled together with Gorilla Glue—the get-rich-quick schemes of this century’s personal development world—I know them well. And they all provide the same insight—that they’re tools, blueprints into which you install your contribution—effort. The application of hard and consistent work turns the easy promise of the lifehack into real, earned growth, the potential into the actual. They just don’t market that part.