I woke up with a feeling of trepidation and dread. Slowly, I turned to look at my alarm clock. It read 10:30 a.m. I cursed out loud using every profanity that is in my vocabulary. I had missed my class. Trying to shrug off my drowsiness, I stood up, only to lose my balance and crash to the bed. I vaguely remember turning off the alarm clock and promising myself only five more minutes of sleep. Oh well, I thought. I had one more hour before I had to go to my next class. I turned in and woke up at 1 p.m. I had missed my next class.
I love to sleep. There is no feeling like sleeping late on the weekends or waking up to the alarm clock, only to realize that you woke up early and can go back to sleep. There is nothing more relaxing than laying in my bed, with a soft and cushy pillow below my head and warm, comfortable blanket over my body. People sometimes eat when they are stressed, or they exercise themselves to death. But I sleep. After taking all my finals, I think I slept the entire next day. It's almost a sinful feeling when you decide to skip a lecture and sleep, but at the time, it seems worth it. When you wake up and look at the window and realize that it is snowing, it is too easy to surrender and sleep.
At the same time, sleep is the bane of my existence. Too often these days I wake up to realize that I missed a class or an appointment. I vaguely remember deciding to sleep in and skip class. When that sleepiness wears off and I realize what I've done, I feel like I was possessed or trapped in another dimension when I decided to skip classes. Nostalgically I remember my high school days. I used to wake up at the crack of dawn and go to school. I would go to all my seven classes and to varsity tennis practice afterwards. When I got back home, it would be dark. In college, I only take a few classes a day and wonder how I managed to be so diligent and dedicated. Sometimes I feel that sleep is like a drug. The more you sleep, the more you want it.
It started when I got to college. When I was in high school, I usually went to sleep well before midnight. When my dorm life started, I noticed that everybody was up. I could hear people talking even at 4 a.m. I guess I gave in to peer pressure and joined the insomniacs. My sleeping pattern was thrown to hell, and I slept when people remained awake and remained awake when normal people slept. I figured this is college.
Before college, I think I missed four days of school altogether. Missing classes was as frequent as driving down to Tijuana and drinking with the locals. Unless I was sick, and I mean really sick, I would never miss class. I can only sigh in despair when I look at myself now.
For awhile, I thought that there was something wrong with me. How can a person sleep so much? I read my psychology books trying to diagnose my apparent illness. There had to be something wrong with me. I tried all sorts of tactics. I had designated people who would wake me up at certain times. That worked pretty well. I bought more than one alarm clock. It helped a little. I started sleeping earlier. I hung a picture of my parents on the wall. It worked. Their stern faces always remind me that it was not an option not to do well in my classes. Now I am no longer the insomniac. I try to stay away from late night parties and go to sleep earlier. But by no means am I wholly satisfied with my lifestyle. I wish I were more energetic, time-efficient and good at managing my schedule. But I'm working on it. I would write more, but I am feeling a bit drowsy. I promise to write more. Yeah right ...
