In the Name of Science

Because I love my wife and child, I have been whoring myself (I mean donating my time) to science. Thus, I have engaged in a “sleep study.” What this basically means is that they tell me when to sleep, when to wake, and when and where to do my business.

Possibly, the most interesting part of the whole thing is that I get to wear some sort of activity monitor. I’m not quite sure what it does. I suppose it monitors my activity, since that’s what it’s called. (Duh!) But, how? The only logical answer I can come up with is that I’m bugged. Some guy in some cave somewhere is listening to everything I do.

I wonder what he’s hearing, and what he thinks. So, let’s say he hears something like, “Oh, yeah, baby, just like that!” What would most people think? Fortunately for me, what is actually happening is something like my wife scooping ice cream into a bowl while I’m watching. When, he hears me grunting and moaning, my little friend might think I’m injured, but it’s probably just me filling the porcelain receptacle with the items necessary to take it to a sewage treatment plant.

I always have to ask myself, what does this have to do with anything? My answer, as usual, is “not much.” I guess it speaks to the differences between men and women. I can’t really bemoan my lack of sleep time. It’s still more than I get when I’m working. All I usually do is make a mess anyway, which my wife just has to clean up. Moreover, I get to play video games without the requisite nagging.

Now, I think I’ve figured out a way to beat the system. I’ll just strap the watch thing to a cat and let them do the moving for me. And, don’t think this is a problem because our cats actually do more moving in this house than I do. Go figure.

Chris