The game is up. Magic FM is playing on the taxi’s tinny radio, saccharine melodies cutting through your stupor just long enough for the regret to set in. Back in the club, it’s only just getting started. The best selections are only now rolling out, but you’re making your sorry way home. Another potentially transcendent clubbing memory robbed by the ache in your knees and the break in your resolve. Sleep beckons. There’s no going back.

“Why does it matter?” you might ask. “Haven’t I had my fun?” Well sure, but FOMO’s already kicking in. Don’t you wish you could have been there for the jubilant end? It’s the final throes of the night where the real fun is to be had, and you’re missing it all.

Fortunately for you, it doesn’t have to be this way. There is an unsung hero in dance music, seldom spoken of but always there to save the day when called upon. Underappreciated and underused, this hero holds the key to energised partying. Who is this modest champion? Allow me to introduce the disco nap.

There are three essential types: The Intermission, as pioneered by those hardy Berghain types. This usually involves dipping out of the club around 11am on Sunday morning before returning at 6pm to see things through ’til Monday at dawn. This is a stealth operation and perhaps more than any other breed of clubber, Berliners know the true value of the re-entry stamp. Then there’s the ‘Hide And Sleep’, which involves finding a quiet corner of the club (we recommend camouflaging yourself with some coats) and shutting your eyes until people start covertly taking pictures of you and posting to social media. And finally there’s The Pre-Emptive, where you skip pre-drinks for a tactical hour or two’s kip.

Sleeping’s cheating, they say… but then so is powdering your nose like a period drama heroine; sometimes it’s OK to bend the rules. You want to dance ’til the very end? Then it’s time to embrace the pre-party slumber. Even the most tireless raver needs a little beauty sleep over the course of the weekend, and it can make the difference between throwing shapes as the euphoric 6am closer rolls out or being ruthlessly shaken awake at 3am by a begrudging Uber chauffeur.