This means war

If you're wondering why I didn't post something last night (and don't deny the anxious movements of your buttocks to the edge of the seat, I know you feel it), I have a very good reason. I was ambushed.

The past two days have actually been bordering on torturous for me. My naps have not seemed to alleviate the weight of sleep so much as temporarily obfuscate it, like taking a shot of morphine to combat an amputated leg. You might feel okay for a small amount of time, but no amount is going to take away from the fact that you aren't going to be going for a run anytime soon. But I've religiously kept to my nap times, overslept very little, and I was confident that this would be one of the final blockades to a utopian sleepless existence.

By 6pm last night I began to feel reasonably in charge again (fortunate, considering we've got a big yoga group staying who all checked in last night). Around 1am I went to the library to do some yoga, and it was here, in my safety zone, where I was taken.

Sometime during my yoga practice I fell asleep and woke up approximately five and a half hours later at 7am, dressed and on the couch.

Now, the devil here is not in the details, it's in the things that are not being said. For anyone whose eyesight is not strong enough for them to read between the lines, I'll spell it out.

• I didn't say "after yoga", which would be perfectly acceptable. Imagine lying in savasana, heart rate dropping, skin cooling, feeling the waves of yogic euphoria lapping against your eyelids. It's easy to see how you might fall asleep. However, the last thing I remember was doing what's called Uttana Shishosana, a pose that involves being on all fours on the mat and slowly dropping your chest to the floor, keeping your head up and pulling your shoulders right back. Not a pose I find particularly easy, restful or sleep inducing. I recall going into this pose, but not coming out of it. I also don't recall doing any other yoga poses after this.
• I didn't say "I got dressed" because I have no memory of this either. In this situation, dressed means jeans and two t-shirts, no shoes or socks. Somewhere between Uttana Shishosana and waking, I managed to dress myself without realising.

I feel as if my brain lay in wait until I was in one of the more vulnerable yoga positions and unable to defend myself, then leapt forward with a chlorophyll-soaked rag in one hand and my consciousness in the other. I suspect this is in direct retaliation to the sleep form I drew up to counter its insidious whisperings after my naps that I hadn't actually been to sleep yet. I heard no peep from my brain for three naps after I did that, and now this.

I have to remember that this is just an experiment, and I shouldn't get emotionally involved in anything that actually occurs. I need to view it all objectively, take notes and record observations, and simply sit back and watch it like a student's art film that doesn't really make sense but is kind of interesting anyway. But still, when my brain takes over in that fashion I find it hard not to take it personally. I'm going to have to design some way around this for tonight.