Once my body decides it’s nap time I will fall asleep anywhere. Even if I don’t want to. Even if I am struggling to stay awake. I once attempted to nap while sitting on a high-stool in the kitchen at a house party. Someone sensibly put to bed before I took a tumble. I’m not a very sociable passenger because I’m likely to doze off in the passenger seat of the car, or the bus, train or plane. Any trip that’s over an hour long, I will have a little nap. My mum used to make fun of me for sleeping on the bus to and from work everyday. I didn’t see anything wrong with it.

While having a little snooze on the bus is reasonably acceptable, falling asleep in the theatre isn’t really. I don’t go to the theatre intending to fall asleep; it just happens. I’ll be watching a show, enjoying it even, when suddenly my head start to nod and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. I can’t help it. I might rest my eyes and keep my ears trained on the stage, hoping that the drowsiness will pass, but I know I’ve kidding myself. Once I close my eyes, a cat-nap is not far behind. I’m more likely to fall asleep in matinees than evening performances. Maybe because it’s the perfect set-up for a nap – sitting in a comfy chair, in the middle of the afternoon, with the lights down low, while someone tells you a story. It sounds exactly like nap time! Suddenly falling asleep seems like the only logical thing to do.

Beckett has a particularly soporific effect on me. I’ve dozed off during two different productions of Happy Days, one staring the fabulous Fiona Shaw. I missed Lucky’s speech in Waiting For Godot, because I was asleep in the stalls in the Gaiety, not the most comfortable of seats. Actually maybe I can’t blame the comfortable chairs for my tendency to snooze because I managed a couple of micro-naps during SJ Company’s The Women Speak while perched on a table or a low school bench.

I’m always desperately hoping that no-one notice as my eyes close and my head nods closer and closer to my chest. I’d hate to insult anybody with my inability to stay awake. It’s not you, I want to tell them, it’s me! It’s not a criticism of the production, it’s just that my brain has a hard time concentrating on Beckett for any length of time. It’s trying to find a nice, neat story where there isn’t one and then it shuts down in self-defence. It just needs a little break, it will boot up again in a few minutes.

My poor tired brain found solace in Pan Pan‘s All That Fall. It’s a radio play so closing your eyes is totally acceptable, and with the rocking-chairs and cushions it practically encourages a gentle trip to dreamland. (Napping in the theatre will give you very trippy dreams.) I can’t remember if I fell asleep during All That Fall, probably because I wasn’t struggling against it, I was able to drift in and out of the story without guilt and I really liked that. It’s a radio play that you listen to from your rocking chair, surrounded by lots of other rocking chairs. Light plays an important part of the experience too as it soothes or startles at different points in the play. It’s definitely my favourite way to see/hear Beckett.

All The Fall is on the Abbey stage until the end of this week. For anyone in need of a lunchtime nap, there are €15 euros tickets for the 1pm show, if you quote “Bewley’s Offer” online or on the phone. Go and have a cerebral and completely acceptable nap at lunchtime. Afterwards, you’ll be able to tell everyone that you napped on the Abbey stage.