One of the lifestyle components I’ve been rediscovering since making my triumphant return to the land of rain and honey is napping.

I’ve long been a fan of late afternoon snoozes. When I was heavy into my rave career, I honed my napping skills to a science: on Fridays I would come home from work, eat dinner, shower, and be asleep in bed by 6:30pm. I’d sleep for four hours, then wake up like lightening and go out for the night.

I’ve also long supported the power nap, and have been known to take short, aggressive naps in varied locales such as unused offices, on top of university desks, floors of airports, front seats of cars at rest stops during a whopping 1.5 hour drive, and on the bench seats of Washington State Ferries and most other forms of public transportation with a seat.

But while in Los Angeles, my napping was infrequent and troubled. I can see light right through my eyelids, and so afternoon snoozes were always glary, fluttery-lidded affairs. Typically, naps were of the “siesta” sort, the “it’s too hot to do much else” kind of admissions of afternoon defeat. Southern Californian naps were sweaty and with only a sheet, limbs arduously avoiding each other.

Back in Seattle, I’m regaining ownership of my beloved hibernational sleeping patterns. Nothing better than a cozy nap, the kind that comes after a quick steaming shower, and finds a body shuttled from hot water to warm sheets in a flash. Fetal position rains supreme, feet entertwined and ears under heavy blanket.

I find myself taking ill-timed naps after work, waking at 9pm wondering what day it is, and dreading my inevitable tossing and turning come bedtime. I’m taking pre-outing naps, just to make sure I’m well-rested. I bask in weekend naps to sleep off the bloody mary I had with brunch. I’m fully relishing quick snoozes to fill a few minutes of the dark time of the year. I am definitely a citizen of hibernation.