Sorry, Not Sorry

The Fight Between My Present and Future Selves

I’m wondering how worried I should be when I type into Google: “How early before sleep do you need to stop drinking alcohol to not impact sleep quality.”

It’s not good, right?

But is it “we should be a little worried about her bad or call AA bad?”

You see here’s the problem.  I wear a little device on my finger called an Oura ring that tracks my sleep quality.  I realize just the fact that I considered this tracker worth my hard-earned money probably puts me in the category of “just a little bit weird.”

Do I have trouble falling asleep at night?  No

Do I wake up tired? No

Is my energy good throughout the day – Yes.

So why am I obsessed with sleep quality?

I could blame the bio hacking pod casters.  Every week there is some new metric that if I’m not keeping up with will apparently lead to my early demise.

I could blame the dopamine hit I get when my ring tells me “Good job your readiness is at an optimal level.”  Yes, I clearly didn’t get enough positive affirmation growing up.

Still why do I care?  Do I think that somehow when I die – because we all will – there’s some prize on the other side for having with the best blood markers?

Is this what bored, white, middle-aged people have been reduced to in the absence of real-world problems?  We obsess over our ApoB and A1C numbers.  If you don’t know what those numbers mean it’s ok – it just means you haven’t gotten on the crazy bus of self-measurement.

So back to the alcohol question.  Here is the thing even without consulting Dr. Google (the answer is 3-4 hours by the way) I know without a doubt that my sleep is always worse after drinking alcohol.  It’s not even a sometimes thing.  It’s consistently one hundred percent across the board bad for me.  So why do I do it? 

Why do any of us do things we know are bad for us.  We can’t feign ignorance – hence the word “know”.  So, what is it that compels us to act against our own self-interest?

We all do it.  Maybe you don’t perseverate over alcohol but maybe for you it’s the sugar you shouldn’t eat; or the money you shouldn’t spend etc.; or the reality tv you shouldn’t waste time on.  Why?

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The other day my son started organizing his things for school after dinner.  You could have pushed me over with a feather given that our morning routine normally resembles something out of a Marx Brother’s movie.

“Wow, Max, are you really getting yourself organized for school the night before?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ve decided to be a better friend to my future self.”

“Your who?” I inquired.

“Well,” he said, “if I get organized the night before then my future self gets to sleep in later and that seems like a good thing to do.”

“Huh,” I thought, “maybe I haven’t completely dropped the ball with this one.”

I thought about that conversation as I was staring at the wine bottle and wrestling with my desire to have a glass with dinner.  “Sorry future self”, I thought as I pulled the cork, “I’m not considering you right now.”  After all isn’t it always future self that has to clean up present self’s messes?

That’s when it hit me.

Present self wasn’t really sorry.  She was just saying that to be politically correct.

In fact, present self was elated she had won the inner struggle with future self.

Why was present self feeling so defiant?

Suddenly, it made sense. 

My future self hasn’t had to clean up a lot of messes, in fact present self is always having to give into the future self bully.

Present self goes to the gym so future self looks good in a bikini.

Present self picks a salad instead of a plate of nachos so future self won’t have heart disease.

Present self works hard so future self gets to retire someday.

Present self doesn’t buy the new dress so future self isn’t overdrawn.

Present self deals with a lot of not so fun so that future self will be comfortable.

Present self feels like she is getting the raw end of the deal.

Besides, are future self’s joints even going to be limber enough to have any fun?

I recently wrote about Flaco the escaped Eurasian owl in New York city.  How sad would it be if Flaco told himself “No, we are not going to eat that juicy rat on seventh avenue.  You know what the vet said, stick to the lean snakes and …” then Bam he hits a building and is dead.

That’s the problem isn’t it.  Future self isn’t guaranteed. We can’t even guarantee that our choices will result in good outcomes for future self. We can exercise, watch our diet, work hard and life might still hand us some hardship. On the other hand, it feels so damn irresponsible to carpe diem all the time.

Clearly there needs to be a balance I’m just not sure I know what it is. Apparently, there are days that present self gets a little cranky and just needs to blow off some steam; to not be so damn responsible all the time; to exert a momentary act of defiance.

So, there you have it: I poured myself a glass of wine: Sorry, not sorry, future self.

Photo by Matthieu Joannon on Unsplash

Future self would like to go on the record to say that Maureen’s sleep score was 54 this morning instead of her normal low 90’s and we have already had a chat with her about these juvenile acts of defiance which we are hoping won’t happen in the future. We are sorry you had to witness this.

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