Maybe this is one of the reasons I feel so at home there. I sleep a lot. I can fall asleep any time, on any surface. In my teen years, I slept on bare floors at friends houses, using my arms as a pillow. I've slept in scores of cheap, posture-wrecking beds. I've fallen asleep with my head on the steering wheel of my car as I waited a few minutes for my boyfriend. I drift into a blissful sleep after hours of lovemaking.
I sleep when I am depressed, in the hope that when I wake I will feel better. I sleep to relax when I am tense. I sleep to keep warm or to cool down. I sleep like the dead. I have slept through the sirens of fire-engines coming to put out a fire in a house I was staying at. I sleep an hour or two nearly every afternoon.
I feel guilty about sleeping even for the usual eight hours at night. If roused by a phone call or a visitor, I pretend I've been awake. It's an embarrassing, obvious lie. I think, like most Westerners, that I should be awake and doing something, that sleep is a waste of time.
In Thailand, there is no such guilt. Ironically, I don't sleep as much when I'm there.