My Sleep Score is Only a 62 Today

I told my Uber driver my sleep score once.

Not a friend. Not my husband. An Uber driver on a ride to the airport, who had zero interest in how I slept the night before. He was driving, listening to his music, and I was sitting in the back seat. He casually asked me, 'How is your morning going?' and without hesitation, I replied, 'Honestly, not great; my sleep score is only a 62 today'.

Cue awkward silence. After what felt like 5 minutes, he replied, 'Oh no,' in the tone you use when someone tells you something you don't understand, but it is bad news.

I have shared my sleep score with my co-workers, my kids, and my sister. I'm fairly certain they have no idea what a sleep score is, what app it's from, or why a number generated by a ring on my finger is dictating the emotional temperature of my entire morning.

Here's the thing: I check my RingConn before I do anything else. Before I even open my eyes fully or acknowledge the sunrise. Or the fact that I am alive, breathing, and probably just fine.

I reach for my phone, open the app, and I let a piece of metal jewelry tell me how my day is going to go.

A 62 means I'm fragile today. An 82 means I'm invincible. An 88 means I will be insufferable about it to everyone I meet.

I didn't use to be like this. I got the ring because I was curious - it was trending, and I like fitness tech. I wanted something convenient to mirror my habits.

But somewhere along the way it stopped being a mirror and became the verdict.

There was a random Monday last month - I remember it specifically because it broke something open for me. I woke up, checked the ring, saw a 54, and mentally filed the day as a "write-off". Low energy, short temper, cancel my workout, and focus on just getting through the day.

One problem: the day didn't cooperate with the narrative. I had an amazing workout. I was upbeat and productive all day long.

I remember around 3 pm I caught myself thinking, 'wait, I feel kind of amazing today,' and then immediately felt a little embarrassed- because I had already told several co-workers I was running on empty.

My sleep score of 54 wasn't necessarily lying. It measured something real. But it wasn't measuring me, not the whole picture. I was treating that score like it had the final word.

I still check the score first thing. I am not going to pretend that I have broken that habit. There is something genuinely useful about having a little data point on how you slept, especially if you are someone who tends to ignore your body's signals until they are shouting.

The problem was never the number. The problem was letting the number dictate the whole day before the day had a chance to speak for itself.

So now, when I see a bad score, I try to treat it as a piece of information rather than the daily headline. Noted. Filed. Let's see how the day actually goes before I write the review.

I still tell people my sleep score.

Let's not get carried away.

To my Uber driver, if you are reading this - I'm sorry, but also my score was a 70 this morning, so... we will see.