It's something that every student, from the party animal to the pre-med, yearns to do more often. Many crave it so badly that they frequently lose control, succumbing to their desires during hypnotizing, monotonous, and poorly-lit lectures. While fear of getting caught deters the less adventurous from indulging, others try to squeeze it into the minutes between classes, refusing to allow any opportunity to go to waste. Consultation with the experts reveals a set of guidelines for aspiring snoozers looking to master the ancient art of sleeping in class.

Anyone who has ever fallen asleep in an airplane, waking four hours later to find one side of their body completely numb, understands the crucial importance of finding a comfortable position. The same applies to classroom-napping, where some seats can virtually cripple the unschooled sleeper in a matter of minutes.

A self-described guru of snooze, Laura B. Zukerman '99, explains the fundamentals of her approach: "In Science B-29 freshman year, I fell asleep on the floor of the Science Center every day," Zukerman says. "I would drag myself to class, but end up on the floor after about 10 minutes every lecture. The only time I encountered a problem was when my father surprised me with a visit one day, and found me snoring in the back of the lecture hall."

The "horizontal" position is a luxury that few classroom sleepers dare take, instead opting for the more subtle "chin-to-chest" position. This entails slumping in one's seat and letting the head fall slightly forward.

The "sideways twist," another popular choice, requires the napper to twist slightly in the chair, resting one side of the body against the back rest. Although this pose is comfortable, it is dangerously obvious and not to be attempted by novices.

An even more controversial approach is the risky "fist-to-cheek" position. Here, sleepers place an elbow on the armrest of the chair, and then balance the weight of their head on the strategically positioned knuckles. The peril here lies in the forces of gravity, which slowly pull the head downward, resulting in a cranial free-fall, jolting the student back to consciousness.

Those who manage to avoid the lure of slumber during classes often consider their classmates' siesta an act of disrespect towards the professor, not to mention a detraction from the academic environment. "I'm aware that many students of varying classes, creeds and first names find it appalling that their brethren and sethren take for granted the collegiate environment to such an extent that the classroom becomes a legitimate context for the curative processes of sub-conscious retreat," comments Noam I. Weinstein '99, "but maybe people get tired."

With the right amount of practice and sleep-deprivation, even the most uncomfortable classrooms can be transformed into sleepers' paradises. The under-sized desks in the Science Center and Lowell Lecture Hall, presumably designed for note-taking, can easily double as "pillows" for the fatigued.

Many students, desperate to abide by the ancient mantra "well-rested, well-tested," attempt to simultaneously absorb information and catch forty winks. The most advanced nappers have even mastered the art of taking notes while catching up on valuable REM shut-eye. However, not even the grand-masters can fight off the forces of snooze that pull the handwriting in a southeasternly direction towards the bottom of the page.

Students across campus have their own thoughts and anecdotes about classroom dozing. "It was especially difficult to stay alert during Rome of Augustus when they would dim the lights to show slides," adds Justin Z. Musinich '00, "And when they hand out slide lists so you don't really need to write things down yourself, it's all over."

Chris K. Schaefer '98 has developed his own way around the problem of getting caught snoring in lectures. He explains, "I used to fall asleep in lectures a lot. Now, I basically stay in bed."