So, the “nap desk” prototype is here.
That’s right. A desk… that you slumber under. Though I’m seeing its image everywhere, I don’t know why. It doesn’t seem altogether novel, does it? Brings to mind the scene from Grandma’s Boy after Mel Gibson look-a-like gets kicked outta his house. Or that one Seinfeld episode I never saw but everyone keeps referencing. Or that one chiropractor I worked for who got really upset whenever I disturbed him by knocking on the door to make sure he was still alive ’cause his “special time” under his worktable was infringing on his own patients’ wait time by an hour plus.
Yes, the nap desk, however cool it looks, doesn’t seem like a particularly new concept.
(“I’m keeping this uncomfortable ponytail up as a subconscious reminder to get back to work soon…”)
However, as I’ve been trying to live on a path of open-mindedness, I’m attempting to zoom out and see both sides of the coin before inevitably dismissing it from my personal option list (but mayhaps championing it for you poor souls whose lifestyle choices include 25 hour days of seat cementing gluteal grooves into an swivel cushion.) In the end, my verdict’s that while the desk’s not my cup of Z’s, the workaholics will love this idea. I know this because I’m a workaholic myself. I find that label’s a nice way to look down on people who aren’t and pretend that I’m somehow better than those with the emotional intelligence to actually balance their lives and tolerate themselves during moments of leisure. But, alas. I don’t even get to consider this posh escritoire as a consolation prize for having an inverse relache between my EQ and work ethic. ’cause none of what I do involves the kind of work you do sat in a building office. (I’ve made sure of that.) If I wanna break, I can just go to my gigantic queen sized bed. (Though I don’t; I get too excited at the prospect of a nap midday that I can’t sleep at all.) Thus, this desk ain’t for me. But for those of you desk dwellers content with living for the work you do versus doing work for a living, let’s review the pros and cons of this nap contraption.
Beginning with the good stuff:
1. It’s a very creative space saver.
(Even if you will prob spend half your time doing this solo horizontal waltz.)
I just helped my dad get a desk recently. Pretty standard. Nothing spesh. But he’d been eyeing it for a while to put in the basement so he could “make more room”. And how did it accomplish that, you might ask? Because he’s storing all this nostalgic crap on it from a job he had two centuries ago that he’s never going to actually use. Somehow, I thought that’s what file cabinets and boxes were for. But who am I to judge how you innovatively use a desk to conserve space? Whether you’re indulging packratting or naptime with your desk, you all get points for creativity. But the desk bed admittedly wins this round. Because my dad’s basement’s since filled to the brim… with more memorabilia.
But I can’t talk. If I had this thing, I’d probably use the bed space as a file cabinet. #runsinthefamily
2. Turning in during pre-deadline time.
(Versus waking up with a QWERTY face keyboard tattoo)
Are you someone chronically haunted by your race against the second hand? Got late meetings and a long commute home? Or even just one of those folk with a career description you have to repeat to me five times because it’s got words like “government” or “proposal” in it and that’s not relatable enough for me to process when I’m as self involved and disinterested as I am? And you’re constantly crashing on stuff that’s due yesterweek? Well, my eye bag addled pal, mayhaps a desk like this is for you. With a sleep space installed at the foot of your toil table, you don’t go through the break-your-flow process of packing up your shiz, heading home for a nap, and then returning in an hour or three to try and remember how to adult.
3. It’s basically a maturity fort.
Let’s all climb inside and pretend we’re partaking in necessary not-fun-ness.
Versus the childlike luxury that it is.
4. Great segue into the work week.
Not ready for Monday yet? Why not hide in your hive cell and carry on with the party (until that meeting happens at three that’s essentially a regurgitation of the last one but is mandatory so that those issuing it can feel relevant and hear themselves talk)?
And… the bad?
1. Mixing bizz with zzz’s.
I’ve often heard that we shouldn’t “work in bed”. Granted, I’ll do the Winston Churchill thing and check my mail or jot down a few of those coming-into-consciousness notes you remember upon waking about what you have to do later. But doing actual work that close to where I catch shut eye? With a brain as wonky as mine, I’m afraid I’d have this Pavlovian mix-up response. My mind would inconveniently set off with new ideas begging to be addressed when I lay down, while my slumberlust would set in the second I sit at my PC and know a futon’s at my feet.
2. Care for a neck snap mid nap?
No, I don’t mean cuzza your spastic night terrors.
Scroll up to the napdesk pic again. I’ll wait.
See them flimsy chains? If they break, you’ll be on bedrest for a lot longer than intended.
3. One more thing to wash
(Unless you do the Finn move. And cocoon yourself atop the sheets.)
When I’m getting off work, the to-do list is long enough. Not that I actually accomplish any of it. But just the thought of knowing I should be knocking items off my list is pretty exhausting. It’s like this dissonance induced shame I could totally fix but don’t. Why add another article of laundry to be lugged into your vehicle onto the list? Along with dishes, trash, vacuuming, and washing your dog with Alzheimer’s and faulty bowels who’s inevitably initiated a game of “Brown Easter Egg Hunt” for you to play upon reentry into your residence?
4. If you’re gonna pay that much…
I know that I just mentioned how much money you could save on gas or hotels… but when you actually think about it, can you imagine how much this thing’s gonna cost? They don’t even list the price online. And from my experience with those fancy restaurants I never get invited to, when they do that on the menu, it’s never a good sign. Usually means you’ve gotta pull out a different colored credit card. For that amount of money, why not just install an on-call room? For that amount of money, I say screw the nap. For that amount of money, siphon off a little for some Starbuckian stimulant elixir to trudge through the tasks, save the rest up, and (if ‘bucks hasn’t wiped your account out by then), head out for a holiday soon after. I mean, shoot. Invest in an inflatable office mattress or something when you return (bonus: less cleaning to do later). Save the fort-making for your four year old, GTFO of town for a bit, and maybe go somewhere you can sleep under the stars. Instead’a centimeters from where your arse was a second ago.
In sum: creative… but maybe we should all “work” more quality downtime into our busy lives.
In lieu of purchasing furniture that perpetuates early onset ulcers, grey hair, and kyphosis.
(This has been a reading from the gospel of hypocrisy.)