It’s the time of day when the sun pours through the window next to where I lay my head to sleep and I lie down on the bed and close my eyes for a nap. I watch the inside of my eyelids turn the color of Mars. My face gets warm and I’m reminded of the first time I visited the gynecologist.

Ladies build it up to be some horrendous thing, but everyone who has ever shared their experience forgot to mention the bright light shone on your insides and the surge of warmth it brings. The only time heat doesn’t feel good on your skin is when it’s already scorching hot and you’re trying to hide from the sun, but when you are in a cold, sterile environment, already goose-bumpy from being naked under a paper gown, that light source is your sun and it feels great. You don’t want the inspection to end. You are chow mein, you are a chameleon, you are a baby chick – you are everything that needs a heat lamp to survive and the gynecologist is holding your heat lamp.

This is what I think about every time I take a 2:45 pm nap in winter.

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