Sleepless in Southern
No word can describe this week quite as well as the word stressful can. I tried using the words tough, demanding, and enervating, which are beautiful words – all words are beautiful – but none can capture the essence of this week the way that stressful does.
So this week was stressful.
Why was it stressful? It could have been the massive load of homework I had to do, the numerous tests and quizzes I had to study for, or the all classes I had to run to. But this is college – everyone has to deal with that.
What actually made this week so stressful was my sudden shift in sleeping habits. I’m not quite sure how to say this, so I’m just going to say it: My bed is evil. I don’t mean Darth Vader evil; I mean spawn of the devil evil. When I wake up in the morning to get ready for class, the bed whispers, “You’ve got an hour. Go back to sleep.” If I wake up thirty minutes later, it coos, “Come on Myron. I know you’re still tired.” If I’m lucky enough to wake up a few minutes later, it wraps its sheets around me, envelops me with warmth, and purrs, “Just five more minutes – no one will know.” When I wake again, I find that I only have four minutes to get to class and make a mad dash, hoping to make it before the quiz starts.
Due to these circumstances, I haven’t slept in my bed all week. Nearly missing my English quiz was literally a wakeup call. Aside from accidentally falling asleep in one of my friend’s room and pulling an all-nighter to finish writing a paper, I’ve spent the week sleeping at my desk. It’s not so bad, really. I mean, I may wake up feeling like someone who hates me repeatedly stabbed me in the side of my neck with a blunt knife, but at least I wake up on time. Regardless of where I slept this week, I haven’t slept much at all. With all the homework to do and tests to study for, I haven’t gotten any more than four hours of sleep in one night.
On Friday, my roommate claimed to have woken up to find me sleeping ON TOP of my desk, which I didn’t believe until I realized that it explained why all of my books and my laptop were on the floor when I got up the morning. I had been so tired that I had forgotten all about climbing on top of my desk in an effort to escape the pain in my neck, while staying far from my bed’s evil clutches.
When I went to General Psychology later on that day, all I wanted to do was sleep. Interestingly enough, the chapter we were working on that day was entitled, “Mind, Consciousness, and Alternate States.” Basically, we were talking about sleep. While we discussed how much time should be spent sleeping a night, I began to feel a tad bit guilty, but I figured that some things, like sleep, had to be sacrificed for other things, like amazing grades. Then, Mrs. Teacher Lady (Dr. Karst) told us about something that really caught my attention. She told us about a condition called Fatal Familial Insomnia, which can prevent someone from ever sleeping. My initial thought was something along the lines of, “Awesome! That’s something every college student needs!” That was, of course, until I found out that those who suffered from this particular type of insomnia lingered in a zombie-like state, in which they were neither fully awake, nor fully asleep. As if that wasn’t bad enough, those with the condition would eventually die, proving that lack of sleep can kill. Honestly, I was flabbergasted. For the first time ever, I saw sleep as a privilege instead of a waste of time. Needless to say, I took full advantage of the newfound privilege that night as I dreamed for hours on a bed that was once thought to be evil.