Ok guys, I'm just going to go ahead and admit it, I'm a bad napper. Real bad. Despite the fact that my parents are both pretty practiced at the art of napping - my father more of an extended afternoon napper, and my mother the queen of the twenty minute power nap - I'm no good at it myself. The problem is that when I lie down to take a nap I start analyzing the hell out of everything. What I want to do is successfully take a power nap, because that's the only kind of nap that's an ok idea, in my opinion. The reason I think that way is because, let's say I take a long nap, a one, two or - Jesus - three hour nap? Well, I wake up from the nap and I want to kill everybody. Not kidding.

I don't know if other people feel this way. Do you? Like you want to kill everybody when you get up from your long nap? That you wake from your deep slumber to discover that, DAMNIT, it is the same day, but it feels like a different day, HELP ME I feel so weird that I could punch someone right in the face? Does that happen to you guys?

I've taken some naps like that when I've been short on sleep from the night before, and every time I take one of those naps I swear I'll never take one again. That I will only power nap. But, like I said, when I try to power nap, I start thinking, and I start worrying that my power nap will turn into a long, kill-everybody nap, and then I figure, "Screw it, this isn't a good idea."

Anyway, last week I took one of these long naps. I was really tired and Nora was asleep. I just got right under the covers and it felt so comfy and cool, and I thought - deluding myself - this is no big deal, I will just sleep for a little while.

Cut to two hours later. Nora's crying and I awake suddenly and, literally, can barely move because the sleep I'd just experienced was so deep and extreme and awesome - except not all that awesome because I suddenly realize I have to get up and care for a child and I could not hate the world more. World, I hate you.

I was in such sad shape that I actually went in to Nora's room, got down on the floor and lay there for a few minutes as she looked at me quizzically through the bars of her crib. I told her, "Mommy just needs a few minutes, Nora." I think she got it, or she saw the insanity in my eyes or whatever.

I finally managed to get her up and get both of us downstairs where I sat there in my zombie-like state while she played with her toys. All I could think was that I needed some iced tea. I know, that's a really weird thought. Especially because I don't drink iced tea all that often. But that was the only way. I needed a cold glass of iced tea - not coffee - or I was going to die. Or at the very least have a truly horrible afternoon.

Because this was such an urgent need, I summoned the strength to boil the water and steep the tea, and when it was cool enough I poured it into my big glass pitcher. I added lemon and lots of mint from my mint plant and after letting it sit in the refrigerator for a little while, I filled a glass with ice and poured myself some.

That iced tea was everything I thought it would be. I did it. I made mint iced tea with my mint plant and not only way it delicious, but it saved my life.