Today (yesterday? last night? this morning? it's all a blur) got off to a pretty miserable start.
At 11am on Saturday I came home from my night shift at Paypal, made some spaghetti, drank a bit of wine, and went to bed around 2pm, intending to wake up around 10pm for my next midnight shift.
My sleep deprived body had other plans for me. After two months of insomnia, sleep deprivation, 60 hour work weeks, and irregular sleeping patterns, my body staged a mutiny.
I hit the bed and immediately fell into a deep
sleep, impenetrable to the nagging of my alarm clock and the curious, slightly worried knocks of roommates on my bedroom door (do you want to take this phone call? are you going to work tonight? are you alive??
I don't think I was alive. The silent, dreamless, and dark void of sleep that I was immersed in was the closest thing to death that I've experienced.
For nearly 16 hours, I slept...and slept...and slept.
Finally, at 5:30am Sunday, 5 and a half hours late for work, I woke up, completely bewildered and disoriented. For a moment, I couldn't discern whether it was the morning or evening. I couldn't tell what day it was, whether I should be at work or whether it was one of those 'wake up on saturday and realize there's no school today' experiences. I couldn't tell if my reality was my reality, if I had a job, if I was me. Lost.
As the fog in my head cleared, I realized I was me, I did have a job, and I was late. Very late. As this realization sunk in, I accelerated to a frantic pace, hurriedly brushing my teeth and putting on the first clothes I could find. Then it hit me: it didn't matter. I didn't care. I decelerated back into the slow motion lethargy of utter indifference
. I showered and smoked a cigarette on my lawn before leisurly heading to work.
At least if I lost my job I could get some sleep.
and now, it's time for bed. i wonder when i'll wake up? who knows.