Perhaps it's the fact that I'm back at work after a week off, but yesterday I was wandering around a little like I was in cotton wool. Jet-lagged, even. Everything seemed slightly otherwordly.
It's amazing how quickly you can get into a new rhythm when you don't have to get up in the mornings to sit in a building in another city and move symbols around on a screen until they make sense. Midweek last week we were happily staying up to watch garbage on TV, or read, or lark about on the internet, until the wee small hours.
But of course, none of this bohemian excess would have been possible were it not for the lie-in. The alarm clock took a back seat for the week and we allowed Mother Nature to tell us when wakefulness was required. Actually, Mother Nature was mainly channeled through a hungry cat, but you get the picture.
We ran the gamut of loafing, this lie-in life. For the first day or so, we'd glance at the clock, smile knowingly, turn over and gratefully enter the arms of Morpheus once more. Even when we got up, we'd keep it leisurely. We even explored the dressing-gown and daytime TV combo.
The thing is, we know that we were living a lifestyle many would disapprove of. It's not the done thing, you know, this lying-in. One must achieve. By rights we should have been up at the crack of dawn, doing worthy things and being polite to animals. We should have been improving our minds or adding to the sum total of human knowledge. Instead we were under the duvet, in my case gently dribbling into my pillow.
I know. That's a great image for you all. Cherish it.
But, you know, no-one ever started a war while having a lie-in. No financial crisis was caused by people catching a few extra z's. Last time I checked, you couldn't be involved in a multiple vehicle pile-up while in bed. And there's plenty of evidence to suggest that it's good for you.
So let us celebrate the lie-in. For some of us, it's the nearest we get to self-improvement.