\ hem-ee-dem-ee-SEM-ee-kwey-ver \
noun1. Music. Chiefly British . a sixty-fourth note.(link)
You’re probably not getting enough sleep, but you might not be as far off the mark as you think. Most sleep experts would offer that aiming for between seven to nine hours of snooze time a night is optimal for feeling refreshed and productive the next day. In a new report, however … researchers are closing in on what may just be that magic nightly number—and it’s not nine hours, or even eight as once believed… it’s seven hours of sleep.
The usual caveats apply, and these findings should be taken with a grain of salt. But the results are interesting—especially if you’re the kind of person who struggles with sluggishness throughout the day.
"The lowest mortality and morbidity is with seven hours," [says] Shawn Youngstedt, a professor in the College of Nursing and Health Innovation at Arizona State University Phoenix… "Eight hours or more has consistently been shown to be hazardous."
Intriguing new study on the optimal amount of sleep. But that grain of salt can’t be overstated given the wide variation of “chronotypes” and internal time.
Also see the science of what actually happens while you sleep and how it affects your every waking moment.(via explore-blog)
But I love the 9 hour sleep! :/
‘Drunk History’ is more like your craziest autodidact buddy telling you the weirdest story he ever heard about Hitler. The facts are not in dispute, they’re just delivered in a way that is blunt and personal, with biases up front instead of hidden.
“My name is Molly. I’m 36, single, live in Brooklyn, and work in publishing. I love gloomy Victorian novels, obscure Korean horror films, Premier League soccer, and knitting. I’m 5-foot-5, slim, with brown hair and brown eyes. I am looking for a serious relationship. I suffer from mental illness.”
That dating profile is going to get me nowhere.
I am not ashamed of my condition. Or not exactly. I think there is still a lot more stigma than we admit, and every joke someone cracks about being “so OCD” makes it harder to explain that while you all think you’re totally cool with me being obsessive-compulsive, it’s a lot more than lining up pencils and touching the light switch… I have no qualms about someone seeing my cellulite, but I am afraid of him seeing my self-inflicted scars.
Molly Pohlig's brave, moving essay on dating with mental illness.
(via The Dish)