On places to nap.

Man, crowdsourcing a blog topic is useful.  One Tom (referenced previously here) said I should talk about my favorite place to nap.

Now, I love to nap.  Love it.  If I could marry an activity, I would marry napping.  Have little half-nap children, grow old in its embrace.

That said, there are plenty of places I love to nap.  My friend Perry's couch, parked conveniently in front of the fireplace.  A stretch of rug in front of my brother's wood-burning oven.  But my favorite?

It's a bit of a cliche, but it's under a tree at the quad at Rutgers.  Just outside of Murray Hall at the New Brunswick campus, a really tall tree.  Like any good favorite spot, it's nostalgic - sleeping, hung over, at two in the afternoon, waiting for my friends to get out of class, sun sifting through the leaves, stoners playing hackysack.  Getting nudged awake with the toe of a Converse or Doc Marten, a mumbled conversation about whether Brower's still serving lunch.

Now, it's my couch, Zevran lying on my chest, Netflix on the TV.  Sometimes I wonder who's napping under that tree now.  What they're thinking about as they pass out, leaning against that trunk.  What's ahead of them yet.

They're probably cold.