Naked hour

My kind of t-shirt!

I like being naked. Really. Like. It. As a result I have implemented a daily naked hour. Each day I strip down and lay in the bed. It’s refreshing and gets me energized.


It began one particularly hot afternoon when I came home from work and announced, “I need to lay down and be naked for at least one hour.” Living in Florida means it’s hot 90 percent of the time. That in turn means I’m always sweaty and irritable. Couple that with wearing a bra (a torture device for women), and you have one unhappy camper. Naked hour lets me get my nerves together and allows me to cool off in body and mind.

Usually I don’t answer the phone or do much aside from reading during naked hour. My roommates know to ask if I’m naked before entering my room. I’ve turned down invites to hang out if it conflicted with naked hour. That’s how serious naked hour is to me. I don’t walk around the house naked (unless there is no one there), but I stay confined to my room. However, naked hour has expanded to other locations as well. Whenever I’m alone at my parents’ house I have naked hour, much to their chagrin. Sometimes I’ll even go into the homeless room, aka my old room, for a spell. I make sure to announce that naked hour is taking place.

One of my roommates once sent me a link to an article stating nudity provides health benefits for your body and brain. Clearly there is a method to my madness. The article listed several benefits, such as increased longevity, less diseases and tolerant views. In that case sign me up for a nudist colony ASAP! Just kidding. I prefer to engage in naked hour alone and not surrounded by a group of bad bodied individuals.

If the world participated in naked hour a lot of wars would be stopped. There would be peace on Earth and everyone would feel at ease. Who am I kidding? Naked hour isn’t going to cause all of that. Nothing will necessarily get solved with naked hour. But then it doesn’t hurt engaging in it either.