Tagged With sleep week


Sleep is a mysterious process, and that means it's the subject of many untruths and much ill-informed wishful thinking. If you're trying to improve your quality or quantity of sleep, don't fall for these myths and you'll be well on the way.


We've been looking at better sleep techniques for Sleep Week, but sometimes it just doesn't happen. We asked Sarah, the editor of our awesome sibling site BellaSugar and an expert on more beauty products than you ever imagined existed, for her advice on techniques and products to look rested when you feel anything but.


"Just one more go," you say to yourself as the clock nears midnight. You know that this time you won't make that stupid mistake. You've solved the puzzle, you've cracked the code. You are in control. Just one more go. The next thing you know, it's 4am and you have work the next day. Gaming has stolen your night and your precious sleep once again. We've all been there -- but we need to stop going there if we don't want to ruin our sleep patterns and our health.


iOS/Android: With this year's Olympics taking place in an unfriendly European time zone, getting up early to watch a crucial event will be a common occurrence. We've recommended good alarm apps for iOS and Android in the past, but if you want to get a tad more jingoistic, Vegemite (yes, Vegemite) has released an Olympics-specific alarm app, complete with wakeup calls from comedian Dave Hughes and swimming coach Laurie Laurence.


I've never felt such relief. Laying my head on the pillow, bracing myself for a full, guiltless sleep. Bliss. My polyphasic sleep experiment had ended. I could enter back into normal society as a fully rested, fully functional human being. At that precise moment my mind was empty, scattered, exhausted. Only later, after 13 hours of sleep, did I attempt take stock and ask myself: what went wrong? What could I have done better? Was my experiment a complete and utter failure?


"This isn't for you. You're not good at this," says my wife, shouting from the other side of the apartment. She's curled up in bed, reading a book, lazily. I'm hunched over the computer desk, jaw clenched, inches from a monitor screen. I can feel the pulsing of the brain inside my skull. "You're not Superman," she says. "You're a sleepy man."