Remember when being cool meant staying up until 3 a.m., then rolling into work (or uni) on three hours of sleep, Red Bull in one hand, and zero regrets in the other? Yeah, I was that guy. Back in my 20s, sleep was for the weak, hangovers were just a mild inconvenience, and the party didn’t stop—it just moved to breakfast.

Fast forward a couple of decades, and let me tell you: there is nothing sexier than a good night’s sleep.

These days, I’m in bed by 9:30 p.m. and I brag about it. Not quietly either. I’ll turn down plans just to get horizontal with my memory foam pillow and whisper sweet nothings to my blackout curtains. I don’t want drinks. I want deep REM cycles.

And if you think I’m alone in this, think again. My group chats—once full of weekend benders and "who hooked up with who"—are now ablaze with talk of magnesium supplements, white noise machines, and which mattress topper changed someone’s life. Spoiler alert: it was the firm one with lumbar support.

There was a time when pulling an all-nighter was a badge of honor. Now, if I don’t get my 7–8 hours, I wake up with the emotional stability of a toddler who dropped his ice cream. Sleep isn’t optional anymore. It’s critical infrastructure.

The best part? I’ve never felt better. I wake up early—on purpose—stretch like a dad in a sitcom, and make coffee before the sun even peeks out. Do I still listen to music? Of course. It’s just mostly bird sounds and a meditation playlist called “Chill Alpha Waves.”

So yeah, 20-something me would probably roll his eyes. But 40-something me? He’s got fewer wrinkles, a sharper mind, and enough energy to actually enjoy the day ahead.

Sleep is the new cool, my friends. And I wear it like a weighted blanket of honor.