Treatment by the doze

Last night I had a dream in which I had to climb to the top of a mountainous path, through heavy rain and near total darkness, having to clutch to sharp tree branches lining the ill-paved but slick road I was on; and no matter how hard I pushed my legs, I could not walk; and no matter how hard I pulled on those branches, my arms could not lift my own weight. There was nothing I could do. I was stuck with a mysterious disability in life-threatening conditions, and so I decided laying down and loitering about would be much more beneficial than worrying about my quadriplegia. And then I woke up. And saw that I'd slept for nine and a half hours. And I thought. "I must have a terrible disorder! Look at the sleep I get! How can I expect to live like this?"