We check in, take off our clothes, get into bed—and sleep. We sleep All. Night. Long. We do it every which way: on our backs, on our stomachs, in the fetal position. Maybe we even go for the face-down, butt-in-the-air pose favored by our 3-year-old. But we aren’t thinking about him right now. We are having a fantasy. Where was I? Oh yes. We are getting into some deep REM sleep now. We sleep for 12 hours straight, then wake up, eat some room-service waffles, and sleep some more. We sleep like a pile of puppies. We are repairing our immune systems and rebuilding our bones and muscles, my friends. We sleep so hard it takes days for the pillow creases to iron themselves out of our faces. We leave the hotel smelling of crisp, white sheets, and we look so fresh and well-rested that it’s almost embarrassing for the other guests, so obvious is it what we’ve been up to all night. When we catch them staring, they look away, flushed and envious. And as we walk out the door we overhear a woman say to her husband, “How come we never sleep like that anymore?”