Ever had one of those days where your mind is tired, your body is tired, you’ve had very little sleep the previous night and all you can think about is getting home and crashing? That was my Monday. And yet, I didn’t get to enjoy the inevitable conclusion. Try as I might, Mr. Sandman was nowhere to be found. I ended up just kicking back, watching an old World Series of Poker showdown (those shows are truly like crack to me), penning a couple of gut-wrenching articles (this and this), and then finally passing out at whatever hour it was at the time. I remember seeing 1:47 a.m. the last time I looked at the clock.

When I was a little kid, I honestly thought that my Mom never slept. She’d tuck me in to my Star Wars sheets (amazingly Lucas hadn’t done anything digital to them back then) and I’d hear her shuffling around in the kitchen doing whatever or playing cards with Dad. When I’d awake in the early hours of the morning, I’d hear her off in the kitchen getting ready to make breakfast. I always wondered what she did all night, assuming that she never slept.

I later learned that she only needed a few hours of sleep each night to keep going. In my youth, I looked upon this as a great gift as that would allow Mom to do more things that most people with her extra time. Eight hours was the rule of thumb for me back then. Not anymore.

I discovered in my college years that I had inherited Mom’s “doesn’t need much sleep” genetic makeup. Oh, lucky me. While staying up all night to study for finals, I logged maybe an hours worth of slumber. I awoke completely refreshed and stayed up late the following night, wondering why all the people I’d spent the night studying with were nowhere to be found. “Duh,” I thought, “they’re already asleep.” But why the hell wasn’t I tired?

Because I’m cursed.

Since then, I’ve come to terms with only needing a few hours of sleep each night. Anywhere between 3-5 is all my body apparently needs, but I can log just an hour or so and go full guns the following day. About once a month, though, I’ll crash for 10-12 hours to “reset.”

I’ve always heard people with the awkward comeback “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Ten bucks says I won’t even do that. I just hope my casket has a TV so that I can watch more poker showdowns. I need to add that to my will.