Just Go To Sleep
I’ve mentioned my complex arrangement for acquiring conscious thought in the morning, but I don’t usually talk about my process for sleeping. Basically it is like this:
- be awake
- start to feel tired
- go to bed
That’s fairly common methodology, except that I usually don’t get tired until two or three in the morning. Tomorrow I have a final at 8am. Fortunately for me, it is in Algorithms and Data Structures, which has been a cakewalk for me. The only thing that worries me is waking up on time. So, in addition to the usual warning sirens, vibrating attachments, lights and music, my cell is set to beep at me, Lisa will hopefully come upstairs to throw water on me. She promised that it wouldn’t be holy water this time, so maybe I won’t end up all burned again.
It’s time to curl up in bed with Family Guy and maybe the latest in the Robert Jordan series. If that doesn’t put me to sleep, I don’t know what will.
Okay, I know, a warm body next to me — that would help, but, uh, after a few hours the body would start to get cold and stiff. Gross. You can’t get a good night’s sleep while trying to spoon a corpse. You just can’t.
Believe me, I’ve tried.
You know how Stewie is always plotting to destroy his mother?
All through middle school, and most especially high school, living with my parents meant getting woken up by my alarm and then harrassed by Mom to get out of bed for at least a half an hour. The entire time I spent loathing the woman. My entire being set on murdering her in a series of horrible ways.
I told you I am not myself in the morning!
Merry Christmas Mommy,
Zach
I murdered that final!
My mom learned not to attempt to wake me up anymore after I had mono for an entire summer and we only knew about it for the last month, and then i became anemic and deathly sick all of the time. Anyway, now when I go home and I ask her to wake me up for some appointment or something in the morning, she says “Hell no, get an alarm clock.”
There’s a lot of iron in Guinness.
Cures what ails ya!