December 23, 1995: On a wooden basement staircase, in an empty house, with no heat, with my dog. My parents lost the house. All our stuff had been moved out. Our nervous dog wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t leave him. That was the last night I slept in the house where I grew up.

December 1998: On a basement floor near Ottawa. At least it was carpeted. Hammered after some party near a college. In the night, some angel draped a blanket over me. Best feeling of my life to that point. Some guy’s sister was kind to us.

May 2009: Coober Pedy, Australia. Slept in a hostel that was in a mine. Slept underground in a room with bunk beds and no windows. It was weird. Felt like a bomb shelter.

December 2011: Wadi Rum, Jordan. Slept outside under the stars on a sleeping mat on a rock of biblical proportion. The guy in the tent next to ours was snoring. Loudly. My partner couldn’t take it. We dragged our mattresses out onto a rock 300 m from camp. I reasoned — scorpions were less likely to find us. Coulda been wrong. Still here to tell the tale.

I’ve slept in some weird places.

I wanted a nap in undergrad but didn’t have a lot of time between classes so, to avoid being disturbed, I climbed up onto a lecture hall roof to sleep. It was a really nice nap

Edit: also once when I worked at taco bell I napped on the boxes of sauce packets in the back

Just the other day I took a nap in a (dry at the time) runoff ditch behind a commercial plaza, bc if I drove home to nap I would’ve had less time to sleep

When I was homeless I slept the kind of places homeless people sleep: Libraries, park benches, unused buildings, moving busses, the subway.

When I was in the Scouts I slept the kind of places adventurous campers sleep: an igloo I helped build, on top of and under picnic tables, brush lean-tos, under the stars on a mountaintop. The weirdest was probably one time the weather turned dangerous during a jamboree and we all decamped to the nearest YMCA and I slept on the hallway floor with a towel over my face because we couldn’t turn the lights off.

There was also the time I got locked out and couldn’t wake my wife up by phone or banging or yelling. It was one in the morning the coldest night of the year so I hopped the last train downtown and crashed in the break room at work on a massage chair.

On a golf course putting green.

I was drunk as a skunk.

I climbed the fence and then I took the big ball markers that mark the tee of each hole, and I stabbed the stabby part into a tree until one tree had all the markers stabbed into it.

Then I went to sleep.

Not super proud of that

On top of a torpedo in a submarine with loud af Navy Seals a few feet away.

Long standby shift at a hotel (think Hilton style). My employer (not the hotel) had a storage room that was just an old hotel room with all the fittings taken out- No bed or couch, just storage racks. I got super bored, took a nap in the old bathtub.

The staff bathroom of an abandoned diner on top of a mountain in Japan. I was cycle touring, didn’t want to put up the tent if I could just go inside. The big windows and proximity to the road meant I didn’t want to be using a flashlight inside, so I went into the staff bathroom, no windows. Also no toilets or anything, just a bare tiled room. Weird place to sleep, but I went into the main area to make breakfast, it was an amazing view. Bonus for not getting the tent wet.

I was homeless in Brussels once. Someone stole my backpack with my passport in it, and just like that I was stateless. It was over a weekend, and the embassy to my home country was closed and wouldn’t open until Monday.

No food, no money, no water, I had nothing to do. I walked all over that city, really got to see every interesting corner of it. It’s like 5 different countries smushed into one, and you can see french/german/british influence almost everywhere. There’s an overpass that cuts right through it at one point, occupying nothing underneath and that’s where the migrants gather on Saturday mornings to host their wares in this long unyielding impromptu market.

I slept in their parks, talked with their police (who didn’t believe my story), and even struck up a conversation with a random Canadian I met at the train station, who fitted the stereotype to a T, and gave me money so I could get by another day, asking for nothing in return.

When Monday rolled around, I took a nice leisurely stroll to the embassy and got an emergency visa, ready for the long bus trip home, and genuinely sadly bid farewell to that beautiful crazy mess of a city. It shares a special place in my heart, bureaucracy be damned.

In a little hut that the chair lift operator of the ski area (closed in the summer, when I was there) would use normally.

In a Walmart parking lot. in a van, with three homies… in a random state. Was it Georgia?

In the classroom, on the floor, before class started, and was woken up when class was over.

In a server room, multiple times, not amazing but the blinking lights are kinda fun to look at at it’s basically like a very loud white noise machine. Also it’s nice and cool.

Pile of cardboard at work because I was pulling 90 hour weeks and I had to work in like 5 hours at the end of my previous shift and I figured the extra time spent traveling home was better spent sleeping.

I used to do sail washing and we would store the sails in this giant wooden rack. All the spinnakers went in a big pile on the top. Me and my buds would take turns having naps up there while we waited for the sails to dry. That was the best winter job.

A public toilet …it was cold outside

Bathtub full of vinegar and water after I got a bad sunburn.