It's the same scenario every morning.
My alarm goes off and I think it's a joke. 6:45? Already? Not a chance.
My hand finds its way to my phone to put a stop to the madness. As I bring the screen down to my face, I feel my heart sink. I feel like crying in agony as I realize that it is time for me to wake up.
I roll over in bed and find myself in a half-kneeling, half-fetal position stance as I attempt to pray.
"Dear Father, please help me to stay awake during this prayer..."
When my feet finally hit the floor and the warmth of my blanket cave is left behind, I start thinking of excuses.
Am I sick? I'm sick. I should probably call in sick. Or what if I just skip Human Development and come home to sleep? Yes, I can do that. But I have a response paper due before my night class, if I nap I'll never get it done. Why did I put it off? Maybe I can just go back to bed for another 20 minutes...
This phase of sleep delusion never fully fades.
When I get to work and walk past the ladies room I can think of nothing but the perfectly good bed sitting on the other side of the wall. A bed that, upon first glance, disturbed me greatly. A bed in the bathroom? Really? And though the thought of it is still a bit uncomfortable, I must admit that there are days when I would give anything to be asleep on that bed.
My day proceeds and I find myself in class. Never before have I fallen asleep at school, though I have come scarily close this semester. The words of my professors begin to twist, turn into colors, and melt into disjointed images in my mind. I can feel my sense of reality slipping when, just as I was leaving the conscious world, the rustle of a paper or click of a pen reminds me that it would be to my benefit to pay attention to the material being presented.
I come home and convince myself that a nap is much more important than the gym. Yet somehow I find myself driving up University Parkway, shivering under my makeshift hoodie blanket as I wait for my car to heat up.
My exhaustion follows me throughout my day and seems to never fully elapse, that is, until it is time for bed.
Once I find myself in my pajamas with my face clean and teeth brushed, the energy that has been eluding me all day seems to flood my system. I must chat, study, read, cook, distract, laugh, play.
Sleep? What of sleep? Sleep is for babies and for the elderly. I am 20, I am in college, I do not need sleep.
My alarm goes off and I think it's a joke. 6:45? Already? Not a chance.
My hand finds its way to my phone to put a stop to the madness. As I bring the screen down to my face, I feel my heart sink. I feel like crying in agony as I realize that it is time for me to wake up.
I roll over in bed and find myself in a half-kneeling, half-fetal position stance as I attempt to pray.
"Dear Father, please help me to stay awake during this prayer..."
When my feet finally hit the floor and the warmth of my blanket cave is left behind, I start thinking of excuses.
Am I sick? I'm sick. I should probably call in sick. Or what if I just skip Human Development and come home to sleep? Yes, I can do that. But I have a response paper due before my night class, if I nap I'll never get it done. Why did I put it off? Maybe I can just go back to bed for another 20 minutes...
This phase of sleep delusion never fully fades.
When I get to work and walk past the ladies room I can think of nothing but the perfectly good bed sitting on the other side of the wall. A bed that, upon first glance, disturbed me greatly. A bed in the bathroom? Really? And though the thought of it is still a bit uncomfortable, I must admit that there are days when I would give anything to be asleep on that bed.
My day proceeds and I find myself in class. Never before have I fallen asleep at school, though I have come scarily close this semester. The words of my professors begin to twist, turn into colors, and melt into disjointed images in my mind. I can feel my sense of reality slipping when, just as I was leaving the conscious world, the rustle of a paper or click of a pen reminds me that it would be to my benefit to pay attention to the material being presented.
I come home and convince myself that a nap is much more important than the gym. Yet somehow I find myself driving up University Parkway, shivering under my makeshift hoodie blanket as I wait for my car to heat up.
My exhaustion follows me throughout my day and seems to never fully elapse, that is, until it is time for bed.
Once I find myself in my pajamas with my face clean and teeth brushed, the energy that has been eluding me all day seems to flood my system. I must chat, study, read, cook, distract, laugh, play.
Sleep? What of sleep? Sleep is for babies and for the elderly. I am 20, I am in college, I do not need sleep.
So here I find myself once again, wanting nothing more than to procrastinate the act of sleep, knowing perfectly well that tomorrow I will wonder what could possibly have been going through my head.
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