Possible reasons for my current insomnia:
1. My blanket is too short. It's the perfect weight for 80 degree, albeit air-conditioned, fanned circumstances, but it's too short. My grandma had it made for me when I was a baby, and while I'm sure it was quite adequate back then, it's not entirely suitable for a 5'10" 20-year-old who can only sleep sprawled out like a drunken sailor.
2. Aforementioned fan is bothering me. Whenever I close my eyes I find myself waiting for the fan to oscillate until it's blowing in my face. The fan haunts my thoughts. It's blowing on my desk chair...now my dresser...now my feet...now my face...now my nightstand...now back to my face. And yet, I can't sleep without the darn fan. It's a cruel, cruel situation.
3. I keep thinking of my plans for today. And boy, do I have plans. Strawberry picking with Mom, strawberry jam making with Mom, cleaning my bathroom, cleaning my room, doing laundry, mowing around the trees (that's right; my mother is officially taking advantage of my newly-discovered mowing finesse), working out, reading more Hemingway, attempting to add some color to my translucent skin, feeling guilty about raising my chances of getting skin cancer in 25 years, watching Whale Wars (and wondering, for the zillionth time, how much of the show is legal, and how it even gets broadcasted considering all of the clearly illegal content. Possibly because it's only broadcasted AFTER the fact? Does that make a difference? I think so. I think so. Will look into this.).
It's a full life I lead.
4. I have a mosquito bite. On my cheek.
5. It's July 1st. Is the entire state shut down?
6. Austria. I'm worried about money, my friends. Especially considering the exchange rate. Especially considering that payroll is down at Target, due to nearby road construction. Especially considering that payroll will likely continue to be down for quite a while, as the state shutdown will postpone said road construction indefinitely.
7. I should brush up on my German. I will be so very disappointed in myself if I get to Austria and end up doing poorly on the German placement test and thus end up back in Beginning German. But it's difficult to study by myself, out of a textbook. To quiz myself by myself, out of a textbook. I don't know how Laura Ingalls Wilder did it.
That's it, I'm giving up. I'm getting up.
Showing posts with label Sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sleep. Show all posts
Friday, July 1, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A Few Things
A few things:
1. Boy, am I clunky when I'm tired. I must have bashed my hip against a dozen different things today at work. Aforementioned tiredness stemmed from all of our smoke alarms going off at 3:38 a.m. this morning. For no apparent reason. And then, despite there being no apparent reason (Mom and I scoured the house), I couldn't get back to sleep. I kept thinking I smelled smoke, and then I had to mentally run through my fire escape route (I'm going traditional: out the window). And THEN I had to figure out which items I would save from my room in case of a fire****. Poetry book from my grandpa, my journal, and my laptop. If I really have lots of time, I would probably go for my 'writing' drawer as well.
2. My Mom just got a Facebook. My Mom just got a Facebook and friend requested me. I must be some sort of demon child, because I'm actually thinking about whether or not I should accept. It's not like I ever put anything really private or really crazy on FB that I wouldn't want my mother to see, it's just that FB is my thing. It's a young adult thing. It's uncharted parent-kid territory. And I don't know if I want to go there.
3. I mowed the lawn for the very first time today. I've wanted to try it for years and years, but since we have a ride mower, and since our yard is hilly and perilous, the job was always better left up to Dad. However, since the lake is down so many feet, and since the grass down there (where water used to be) is fluorishing, I decided to drag the push mower down and have at it. Mowing was actually kind of fun. In fact, the only downside was that my arms started to ache after awhile because the handle (?) was way too low. Another downside would be the dead fish. Another downside would be accidently running over a dead fish and having its half-rotted skin shoot out from under the mower and hit your bare leg. Another downside would be that when you screamed, you forgot that screams echo across lakes. Another downside would be that a fisherman in a boat far away heard you and looked up at you with annoyance and then shook his head. Another downside would be that you haven't read The Old Man and the Sea, so you can't even make a brilliant allusion here. Other than those things, though, mowing was good.
4. We are finally finally finally going to see Water for Elephants. I'm even behaving and refraining from reading reviews ahead of time. When I read reviews ahead of time, I tend to get really cynical about movies. This annoys my darling sister, who likes to give even the worst films some credit. So I'm staying away from IMDB. For now.
****Note: This is assuming that all family members/pets/pets who are family members are already safely out of the house.
1. Boy, am I clunky when I'm tired. I must have bashed my hip against a dozen different things today at work. Aforementioned tiredness stemmed from all of our smoke alarms going off at 3:38 a.m. this morning. For no apparent reason. And then, despite there being no apparent reason (Mom and I scoured the house), I couldn't get back to sleep. I kept thinking I smelled smoke, and then I had to mentally run through my fire escape route (I'm going traditional: out the window). And THEN I had to figure out which items I would save from my room in case of a fire****. Poetry book from my grandpa, my journal, and my laptop. If I really have lots of time, I would probably go for my 'writing' drawer as well.
2. My Mom just got a Facebook. My Mom just got a Facebook and friend requested me. I must be some sort of demon child, because I'm actually thinking about whether or not I should accept. It's not like I ever put anything really private or really crazy on FB that I wouldn't want my mother to see, it's just that FB is my thing. It's a young adult thing. It's uncharted parent-kid territory. And I don't know if I want to go there.
3. I mowed the lawn for the very first time today. I've wanted to try it for years and years, but since we have a ride mower, and since our yard is hilly and perilous, the job was always better left up to Dad. However, since the lake is down so many feet, and since the grass down there (where water used to be) is fluorishing, I decided to drag the push mower down and have at it. Mowing was actually kind of fun. In fact, the only downside was that my arms started to ache after awhile because the handle (?) was way too low. Another downside would be the dead fish. Another downside would be accidently running over a dead fish and having its half-rotted skin shoot out from under the mower and hit your bare leg. Another downside would be that when you screamed, you forgot that screams echo across lakes. Another downside would be that a fisherman in a boat far away heard you and looked up at you with annoyance and then shook his head. Another downside would be that you haven't read The Old Man and the Sea, so you can't even make a brilliant allusion here. Other than those things, though, mowing was good.
4. We are finally finally finally going to see Water for Elephants. I'm even behaving and refraining from reading reviews ahead of time. When I read reviews ahead of time, I tend to get really cynical about movies. This annoys my darling sister, who likes to give even the worst films some credit. So I'm staying away from IMDB. For now.
****Note: This is assuming that all family members/pets/pets who are family members are already safely out of the house.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
In Which a Nightmare Rights Some Wrongs
It's amazing how many wrongs you can right before 10 a.m.
I slept horribly last night; I was so worried about the whole voicemail situation. I had the "racing thoughts" they always talk about in Lunesta ads.
Early this morning, after about 6 hours of sleep, I woke up out of a nightmare. The nightmare was gruesome and terrifying. Most of all, though, it was ironic; in it, I was running from something, and then I was captured, and then I was tortured. Lovely, right? The climax of the entire dream was when I was being dragged down to the dungeon by this evil hag, and I thought to myself, "Why couldn't I have just pretended to be someone else? If I hadn't struggled so much, if I hadn't made such a display of stubborness, I wouldn't be here right now."
And then my alarm went off, and I smiled at the irony of it all, and I set out to right my wrongs.
I did the phone interview I was supposed to have done a month ago for the story I was supposed to have begun weeks ago. I called the leaver of the voicemail to make amends. It was me that had to make amends, you know. She was just being honest. I was being unreliable and immature and lazy. I'm 20 years old, but I still seem to be rather good at those three things.
Perhaps I shouldn't complain about not being treated like an adult unless I'm acting like one.
I slept horribly last night; I was so worried about the whole voicemail situation. I had the "racing thoughts" they always talk about in Lunesta ads.
Early this morning, after about 6 hours of sleep, I woke up out of a nightmare. The nightmare was gruesome and terrifying. Most of all, though, it was ironic; in it, I was running from something, and then I was captured, and then I was tortured. Lovely, right? The climax of the entire dream was when I was being dragged down to the dungeon by this evil hag, and I thought to myself, "Why couldn't I have just pretended to be someone else? If I hadn't struggled so much, if I hadn't made such a display of stubborness, I wouldn't be here right now."
And then my alarm went off, and I smiled at the irony of it all, and I set out to right my wrongs.
I did the phone interview I was supposed to have done a month ago for the story I was supposed to have begun weeks ago. I called the leaver of the voicemail to make amends. It was me that had to make amends, you know. She was just being honest. I was being unreliable and immature and lazy. I'm 20 years old, but I still seem to be rather good at those three things.
Perhaps I shouldn't complain about not being treated like an adult unless I'm acting like one.
Monday, May 30, 2011
I Need Some Sleep, Take 2
Hello everyone.
It is exactly 1:37 a.m.
I have to wake up for work at exactly 5:15 a.m.
Thus far, I have been unable to sleep.
Look for me tomorrow. I'll be the zombie dozing against an endcap in pets.
It is exactly 1:37 a.m.
I have to wake up for work at exactly 5:15 a.m.
Thus far, I have been unable to sleep.
Look for me tomorrow. I'll be the zombie dozing against an endcap in pets.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
One and a Half Naps, and Then a Revelation
A warning before I begin: This will probably be a very personal post. And not that people who don't know me really read this blog anyway, but if you don't know me, maybe you should stop now. That's not an order, as this is the internet, (and therefore anything I post here is pretty much fair game) but it is a suggestion.
I was about to take a nap just now. I finished reading Paper Towns (magnificent) on the couch in the sun room, and then I started to doze off. The thing is, my left earring was pressing into my skull, and I was still wearing my Target red and khaki, and I was worried about the dog sneaking over while I slept and eating the pear core I had laying on the rug beside me and getting sick and dying or something while I slept on like a masochistic infant. So I abandoned the couch, locked the dog in the kitchen, threw away the core, changed into sweats, and got into bed.
I was so tired that I didn't even bother to set my cell phone alarm (I usually do when I take naps or else I will pretty much sleep for the next 2 days). I was so tired that when my knee nudged against paper under the covers, and when I remembered that the paper was the Sunday crossword that I had hidden from my sister this morning (Sunday crosswords are sacred to me, and she has bad handwriting. Don't tell her I said that.), I didn't even bother to set the paper on my nightstand. I decided to sleep with it nudged against my knee.
The thing was, as I was drifting off to sleep for the second time, I started to think about the guy I like (Don't be scared; I'm not going to go middle school on you. Promise). I was thinking about how cute he is, and how smart, and how funny, and I was imagining us hanging out together. And then I started to worry, the way I often do when I think about a guy that I like (and I don't think I'm alone in this). I started to wonder why he would ever like me. I'm not a supermodel, I'm not outgoing, I'm not bubbly, I'm not chill or calm or neutral, I have a big nose, sometimes I can be a major space cadet, I can't dance, I'm not graceful in any way, and I make mistakes constantly. Why would he ever, ever like me back, I thought.
And then, suddenly, like someone was shouting it in my ear, I heard this:
You're perfect.
I'm perfect.
The more I thought about this, the more of a revelation it became. I actually started crying, and as I stared at my turquoise bedroom wall, black mascara tears on my cheeks, I realized that I am perfect. That someone (namely, God) took the time to make me the way I am. He didn't make one mistake with me. He didn't make one mistake with anyone. Every bit of me, inside and out, is deliberate. Everything I am has a purpose, and everything I strive to be will only add clarity to that purpose.
And while I generally view myself as a pretty confidant person, I don't know if I really am. I think in the past, when I've embraced myself, I've done it one-handedly; I've left the flaws out. I haven't liked to think about them much because they're flaws. They're bad. But now I don't know if I believe in the flaws at all. They're really only bits of sin and lint and doubt that I've created for myself, that I've let hang around me because, well, this is Earth and I am human. And I wanted that crossword for myself, darn it!
Do you see yet? As a being I am perfect because, lucky me, I was made in God's image (that's right, I'm one of those). As a human, things get a little shady. But these things shouldn't stop me. If I create the shade, then surely I can be the one to wave it away. I know that I can't save myself completely without help, but I also know that I can save myself a little bit just by realizing how lovely the essence of me really is. (P.S. Your essence is quite beautiful as well).
I think I went around in a circle, you guys. I don't know if I ended up where I intended to, or if you were able to follow my tracks, or if I even left clear enough tracks to follow. I hope I did. I also hope that I didn't come off as some sort of motivational speaker. (There's that self-doubt again. Hello.) I didn't mean to. I just tried to take a nap about a half hour ago, and ended up not wanting to sleep after all. I hope you understand why.
I was about to take a nap just now. I finished reading Paper Towns (magnificent) on the couch in the sun room, and then I started to doze off. The thing is, my left earring was pressing into my skull, and I was still wearing my Target red and khaki, and I was worried about the dog sneaking over while I slept and eating the pear core I had laying on the rug beside me and getting sick and dying or something while I slept on like a masochistic infant. So I abandoned the couch, locked the dog in the kitchen, threw away the core, changed into sweats, and got into bed.
I was so tired that I didn't even bother to set my cell phone alarm (I usually do when I take naps or else I will pretty much sleep for the next 2 days). I was so tired that when my knee nudged against paper under the covers, and when I remembered that the paper was the Sunday crossword that I had hidden from my sister this morning (Sunday crosswords are sacred to me, and she has bad handwriting. Don't tell her I said that.), I didn't even bother to set the paper on my nightstand. I decided to sleep with it nudged against my knee.
The thing was, as I was drifting off to sleep for the second time, I started to think about the guy I like (Don't be scared; I'm not going to go middle school on you. Promise). I was thinking about how cute he is, and how smart, and how funny, and I was imagining us hanging out together. And then I started to worry, the way I often do when I think about a guy that I like (and I don't think I'm alone in this). I started to wonder why he would ever like me. I'm not a supermodel, I'm not outgoing, I'm not bubbly, I'm not chill or calm or neutral, I have a big nose, sometimes I can be a major space cadet, I can't dance, I'm not graceful in any way, and I make mistakes constantly. Why would he ever, ever like me back, I thought.
And then, suddenly, like someone was shouting it in my ear, I heard this:
You're perfect.
I'm perfect.
The more I thought about this, the more of a revelation it became. I actually started crying, and as I stared at my turquoise bedroom wall, black mascara tears on my cheeks, I realized that I am perfect. That someone (namely, God) took the time to make me the way I am. He didn't make one mistake with me. He didn't make one mistake with anyone. Every bit of me, inside and out, is deliberate. Everything I am has a purpose, and everything I strive to be will only add clarity to that purpose.
And while I generally view myself as a pretty confidant person, I don't know if I really am. I think in the past, when I've embraced myself, I've done it one-handedly; I've left the flaws out. I haven't liked to think about them much because they're flaws. They're bad. But now I don't know if I believe in the flaws at all. They're really only bits of sin and lint and doubt that I've created for myself, that I've let hang around me because, well, this is Earth and I am human. And I wanted that crossword for myself, darn it!
Do you see yet? As a being I am perfect because, lucky me, I was made in God's image (that's right, I'm one of those). As a human, things get a little shady. But these things shouldn't stop me. If I create the shade, then surely I can be the one to wave it away. I know that I can't save myself completely without help, but I also know that I can save myself a little bit just by realizing how lovely the essence of me really is. (P.S. Your essence is quite beautiful as well).
I think I went around in a circle, you guys. I don't know if I ended up where I intended to, or if you were able to follow my tracks, or if I even left clear enough tracks to follow. I hope I did. I also hope that I didn't come off as some sort of motivational speaker. (There's that self-doubt again. Hello.) I didn't mean to. I just tried to take a nap about a half hour ago, and ended up not wanting to sleep after all. I hope you understand why.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
A Downer Day
It's been a downer day for me.
In order to write last night's brilliant post (you can chuckle at this. I am.), I had to sacrifice quite a bit of sleep.
Lack of sleep meant that I was pretty much a space cadet the entire time I was at work.
I bumbled around stupidly.
I punched in when I wasn't supposed to.
I banged my arm against a shelf (bruise is appearing slowly but surely).
And last but not least, I somehow thought that I worked 8-4. It was 3:00 when I finally figured out that I was actually only supposed to work until noon.
On the way home I stopped at the library. Libraries usually cheer me up, but somehow, it didn't work today. I got 8 books, but only 1 that I really want to read. Outside of the library, there was a big construction zone where they were tearing up part of the sidewalk. I'm tired of construction. It seems like all of Forest Lake is one big "CONSTRUCTION GOING ON, PLEASE TAKE DETOUR." I'm tired of detours. I don't care what anyone says, roundabouts are not all they're cracked up to be. I have yielding issues.
Now I'm sitting in bed dragging myself down slowly but surely (mentally bruising??? (see above)). It's a sad sad thing to be doing on a Tuesday night, but when I'm in a funk like this there's not much of an escape. I worked on my Press article for a while, but it started to give me a headache; council meeting coverage not only requires an annoying amount of precision, but it's also kind of boring. Don't tell anyone I said that.
I guess I can read, but I'm currently stuck in the middle of "The Handmaid's Tale." This book disappoints me. I'll probably explain why once I've finished.
Sorry for lack of eloquence, optimism, excitement, etc. I'll try to be up to snuff tomorrow.
In order to write last night's brilliant post (you can chuckle at this. I am.), I had to sacrifice quite a bit of sleep.
Lack of sleep meant that I was pretty much a space cadet the entire time I was at work.
I bumbled around stupidly.
I punched in when I wasn't supposed to.
I banged my arm against a shelf (bruise is appearing slowly but surely).
And last but not least, I somehow thought that I worked 8-4. It was 3:00 when I finally figured out that I was actually only supposed to work until noon.
On the way home I stopped at the library. Libraries usually cheer me up, but somehow, it didn't work today. I got 8 books, but only 1 that I really want to read. Outside of the library, there was a big construction zone where they were tearing up part of the sidewalk. I'm tired of construction. It seems like all of Forest Lake is one big "CONSTRUCTION GOING ON, PLEASE TAKE DETOUR." I'm tired of detours. I don't care what anyone says, roundabouts are not all they're cracked up to be. I have yielding issues.
Now I'm sitting in bed dragging myself down slowly but surely (mentally bruising??? (see above)). It's a sad sad thing to be doing on a Tuesday night, but when I'm in a funk like this there's not much of an escape. I worked on my Press article for a while, but it started to give me a headache; council meeting coverage not only requires an annoying amount of precision, but it's also kind of boring. Don't tell anyone I said that.
I guess I can read, but I'm currently stuck in the middle of "The Handmaid's Tale." This book disappoints me. I'll probably explain why once I've finished.
Sorry for lack of eloquence, optimism, excitement, etc. I'll try to be up to snuff tomorrow.
Friday, April 29, 2011
In Which I Sleep Through a Royal Wedding
Yes, I watched.
Actually, if I'm going to be completely honest (and you know I'm going to be, or I wouldn't have said anything), I meant to watch William and Kate's wedding. I had my alarm set for 5; I was going to roll out of bed, grab my pillow and comforter, and head down a few floors to the TV Lounge (which contains an adequate-for-royal-wedding-viewing sized TV), where I would wait breathlessly for the ceremony to begin.
Here's what actually happened: I was up until 2:30 a.m. this morning studying for a German test I had this afternoon. Ergo, when my alarm went off at 5 (after only 2 and a half hours of sleep), I told myself "five more minutes, and then I'll go downstairs," rolled over, and fell back asleep. The next time I regained consciousness, it was 6:50. Luckily, I was able to make it out of bed that time and managed to catch the entire balcony scene. Kiss one AND kiss two. (This strikes me as a good sign; Diana and Charles only kissed once, and look where they ended up).
This brings me to my current position: I'm waiting for the taped wedding ceremony video to load on Mac. I'm a little disappointed that I missed seeing it live, but I'm sure my German grade will be better for it.
In other royal-related news, I had a long discussion at work today with a professor who seemed to think that Queen Elizabeth arranged for Diana's murder. The way she put it, Diana was dating someone who was not British, not Christian, and not aristocratic. She was an embarrassment to the royal family, and clearly, she had to go. My reaction? Polite, contained disbelief. Maybe it's true that the Queen did not like Diana. But I absolutely refuse to consider her a possible murderer! Maybe I'm too stubbornly stuck in my romantic ideals concerning monarchy, and maybe I put too much faith in the accuracy of the movie "The Queen," but I can't help it. Queen Elizabeth is above such nonsense. She is a sweet, compassionate woman who would never orchestrate something that could harm her grandsons in such a large way. The driver of Diana's car was drunk, and they were being pursued by the paparazzi. It was a tragic accident that will be remembered forever, but I am quickly becoming sick of all the conspiracy theories surrounding it. Why can't people ever just let the deceased be deceased? Why do they have to keep dragging them back for round 2 and 3 and 4 and etc.?
Well, anyway, I don't want to spoil this beautiful day with my morbid rantings. Here's hoping that Kate and William will have all the blessings wished upon them by both the living and the dead.
P.S. (Dress rave) It was absolutely gorgeous, wasn't it? I loved the lacy long-sleeved look. Very cathedral-appropriate, but not matronly or anything. (Funny story) I was just watching a video clip of Kate arriving at the Abbey, and as soon as she got out of the car, the video host started squealing nonstop about her dress. She literally shrieked quite a few times. I had to switch videos because my ear drums were starting to ache.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Mine Does
What kind of university lets a group of students sit in a room for five and a half hours
and decide which pieces of technology are worthy of being invested in?
What kind of university gives said students more than $200,000 to invest?
Mine does.
and decide which pieces of technology are worthy of being invested in?
What kind of university gives said students more than $200,000 to invest?
Mine does.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
High Spots
I think I wrote part of a story tonight.
I say I think because I'm not quite sure what it is yet. I'm not sure if it's just an overflow of spontaneous thought, or if it's an overflow of spontaneous thought that could possibly mean something to someone else.
I'm so tired, though, that I'm going to leave the overflow saved on Mic Word for tomorrow morning.
I also worked my second to last day at Target today (well, second to last day of work until May).
When oh when are they going to learn not to put me back in electronics, even to cover someone's break?
If you give me a new camera, I will read the directions and figure out how to use it.
If you give me a laptop, I will navigate fairly well.
If you give me a broken TV, I may figure out that it just needs to be plugged in.
But if you give me aisles of merchandise without instructions, if you expect me to think on my feet, if you expect me to pretend I know what I'm talking about to people toting small children and looking into my face anxiously, then I think you have the wrong girl.
There were a few high spots, however, even amidst my confusions and overall awkwardness.
For example, there was a man wearing a black wool coat who wanted a Wii game unlocked from the case.
I did so, and while I was ringing it up, he looked over at a sign by the cell phone plan stuff. It said "offering unbiased opinions."
He asked me about it, and I said that that sign was only for the cell phone plan people, and that all of my opinions were completely biased.
Then he looked at me and said, "Okay, what's your biased opinion?"
Without thinking, I blurted "I think that Obama should be reelected."
The man in the black wool laughed for about five minutes before saying "Me too. Have a nice day."
Yep. That was a high spot.
Another high spot will be happening very soon, when I lower my heavy head onto my pillow and say to myself: "best part of the day."
I've been saying that to myself every night of Winter Break, because that's what my roommate always says when she gets into bed at night.
And I always glare at her because I know I'll be up for hours studying because I'm a chronic procrastinator.
But for now, it's just me.
And I'm going to bed.
I say I think because I'm not quite sure what it is yet. I'm not sure if it's just an overflow of spontaneous thought, or if it's an overflow of spontaneous thought that could possibly mean something to someone else.
I'm so tired, though, that I'm going to leave the overflow saved on Mic Word for tomorrow morning.
I also worked my second to last day at Target today (well, second to last day of work until May).
When oh when are they going to learn not to put me back in electronics, even to cover someone's break?
If you give me a new camera, I will read the directions and figure out how to use it.
If you give me a laptop, I will navigate fairly well.
If you give me a broken TV, I may figure out that it just needs to be plugged in.
But if you give me aisles of merchandise without instructions, if you expect me to think on my feet, if you expect me to pretend I know what I'm talking about to people toting small children and looking into my face anxiously, then I think you have the wrong girl.
There were a few high spots, however, even amidst my confusions and overall awkwardness.
For example, there was a man wearing a black wool coat who wanted a Wii game unlocked from the case.
I did so, and while I was ringing it up, he looked over at a sign by the cell phone plan stuff. It said "offering unbiased opinions."
He asked me about it, and I said that that sign was only for the cell phone plan people, and that all of my opinions were completely biased.
Then he looked at me and said, "Okay, what's your biased opinion?"
Without thinking, I blurted "I think that Obama should be reelected."
The man in the black wool laughed for about five minutes before saying "Me too. Have a nice day."
Yep. That was a high spot.
Another high spot will be happening very soon, when I lower my heavy head onto my pillow and say to myself: "best part of the day."
I've been saying that to myself every night of Winter Break, because that's what my roommate always says when she gets into bed at night.
And I always glare at her because I know I'll be up for hours studying because I'm a chronic procrastinator.
But for now, it's just me.
And I'm going to bed.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Finals Week, Part II
I'm on a study break. I tried to do an hour of straight memorizing American writers and their works and the terms that describe their works, and I barely made it.
It's only the first day of Finals Week, and my brain hurts.
Maybe because I spent all weekend (literally) trying to make a thesis based on an essay we read in Honors, based on one of the paper topics provided. It kept not working and not working until I finally realized that it was not going to work. So, I switched topics. At 2 a.m. this morning. Wrote until 5. Woke up at 10. Wrote until 3:30. Turned the paper in about fifteen minutes before it was due. And it was probably the worst paper I've ever written. Not for lack of effort, but because I didn't have time to make it good.
That's the worst thing about this semester, I think. I'm trying so hard but my grades still aren't where I'd like them to be because I don't have time to focus on one subject or one paper or one reading for very long; the others start calling to me before I have a chance to even sit and consider.
Now my brain hurts and I don't think I can spend much more time with this American Lit. stuff I'm currently doing.
But okay. Here's the plan:
Tonight: Finish typing up study guide for Am. Lit. Study study guide.
Tomorrow: German final 11-1, study Am. Litl, Am. Lit. final 4-6, Work on Understanding Writing paper, Writing Room work 7-7:30, Info. Desk work 8-10, Finish Understanding Writing paper
Wednesday: Social Science work 9:30-11:30, Think of an idea for/research/write Icelandic Sagas paper. All day. Get 'er done. Info. Desk work 6-8. Finish Icelandic Sagas paper. Preferably before 3 a.m.
Thursday: You're not done with Icelandic Sagas? You've got to be kidding me, Hol...well...you have until 4:30. WRITE. After 4:30, take a few cleansing breaths, collapse limply on bed, then get up and start packing. 7:30 Mom arrives. Load car. Go home. Sleep until Saturday.
It's 10:14. 4 minutes past my alloted break time. Must go.
It's only the first day of Finals Week, and my brain hurts.
Maybe because I spent all weekend (literally) trying to make a thesis based on an essay we read in Honors, based on one of the paper topics provided. It kept not working and not working until I finally realized that it was not going to work. So, I switched topics. At 2 a.m. this morning. Wrote until 5. Woke up at 10. Wrote until 3:30. Turned the paper in about fifteen minutes before it was due. And it was probably the worst paper I've ever written. Not for lack of effort, but because I didn't have time to make it good.
That's the worst thing about this semester, I think. I'm trying so hard but my grades still aren't where I'd like them to be because I don't have time to focus on one subject or one paper or one reading for very long; the others start calling to me before I have a chance to even sit and consider.
Now my brain hurts and I don't think I can spend much more time with this American Lit. stuff I'm currently doing.
But okay. Here's the plan:
Tonight: Finish typing up study guide for Am. Lit. Study study guide.
Tomorrow: German final 11-1, study Am. Litl, Am. Lit. final 4-6, Work on Understanding Writing paper, Writing Room work 7-7:30, Info. Desk work 8-10, Finish Understanding Writing paper
Wednesday: Social Science work 9:30-11:30, Think of an idea for/research/write Icelandic Sagas paper. All day. Get 'er done. Info. Desk work 6-8. Finish Icelandic Sagas paper. Preferably before 3 a.m.
Thursday: You're not done with Icelandic Sagas? You've got to be kidding me, Hol...well...you have until 4:30. WRITE. After 4:30, take a few cleansing breaths, collapse limply on bed, then get up and start packing. 7:30 Mom arrives. Load car. Go home. Sleep until Saturday.
It's 10:14. 4 minutes past my alloted break time. Must go.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
The Evolution of Man on a Bedroom Floor
It is exactly 6:29 a.m. here in Minnesota, and I've just returned from our fair capital city, where I dropped my mother off at the airport. She's going to New York to visit my aunt and grandma, and since Dad had to work at 4:30, it was up to me to navigate the van (okay, okay, with the help of our Garmin GPS) through city traffic and ridiculous airport ramps.
The actual driving was okay (see previous parentheses), but I had some issues getting out of bed at 4 a.m.
It may have had something to do with me only getting two hours of sleep, or maybe I was still in a semi-dreamlike state, but for whatever reason, when I put my feet on the floor my legs collapsed under me and I fell. I tried again to stand, and once again found myself in a heap on my bedroom floor.
Maybe it doesn't sound too strange now, but this little clumsy incident felt incredibly strange at the time. I've never experienced anything like it before.
I think that when my alarm went off, I jumped out of bed before I was even awake. My body reacted to the alarm before my brain was actually functioning.
Even now, the whole incident is really fuzzy, like it happened in a dream. And who knows? Maybe it did.
I think if anyone had been watching my 4 a.m. struggle, It would have looked a little bit like the evolution of man (you know, slowly creeping up from the primordial ooze of messy bedroom floor). My muttered curses could have been mistaken for caveman grunts, my sleepy dullness matched that of an early, small-brained human, and my morning hair probably looked just about right for that period, as well.
Conclusion? Sleep is weird. Dreams are weird. Waking up from sleep and dreams is weird. I wish I knew more about how it all works; we briefly covered the topic in high school psychology, but unfortunately I don't remember a whole lot. Nevertheless, I have a prodding suspicion that we are more ourselves when we dream than we are at any other time. Because we dream about the things that really matter, right? We cut right to the chase, whether we want to or not. Our unconscious takes orders from no one. Not even ourselves.
Well, I'll be going back to sleep now (ironic?). Blessedly, I can squeeze in about six hours before I have to wake up again to get ready for work.
The actual driving was okay (see previous parentheses), but I had some issues getting out of bed at 4 a.m.
It may have had something to do with me only getting two hours of sleep, or maybe I was still in a semi-dreamlike state, but for whatever reason, when I put my feet on the floor my legs collapsed under me and I fell. I tried again to stand, and once again found myself in a heap on my bedroom floor.
Maybe it doesn't sound too strange now, but this little clumsy incident felt incredibly strange at the time. I've never experienced anything like it before.
I think that when my alarm went off, I jumped out of bed before I was even awake. My body reacted to the alarm before my brain was actually functioning.
Even now, the whole incident is really fuzzy, like it happened in a dream. And who knows? Maybe it did.
I think if anyone had been watching my 4 a.m. struggle, It would have looked a little bit like the evolution of man (you know, slowly creeping up from the primordial ooze of messy bedroom floor). My muttered curses could have been mistaken for caveman grunts, my sleepy dullness matched that of an early, small-brained human, and my morning hair probably looked just about right for that period, as well.
Conclusion? Sleep is weird. Dreams are weird. Waking up from sleep and dreams is weird. I wish I knew more about how it all works; we briefly covered the topic in high school psychology, but unfortunately I don't remember a whole lot. Nevertheless, I have a prodding suspicion that we are more ourselves when we dream than we are at any other time. Because we dream about the things that really matter, right? We cut right to the chase, whether we want to or not. Our unconscious takes orders from no one. Not even ourselves.
Well, I'll be going back to sleep now (ironic?). Blessedly, I can squeeze in about six hours before I have to wake up again to get ready for work.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Something Russian
Okay so I'm just going to blog I think. It's about 1:39 a.m. here, and I've been trying to fall asleep for the past 4 hours. No joke. I've done just about everything to try to help myself fall asleep:
I started reading Crime and Punishment.
I put aloe on my sunburn.
I crept out of bed and turned on the air conditioning.
I imagined things.
But if there's one thing I've learned in my almost 20 years of life, it's that there's absolutely no point to tossing and turning in bed when you know you won't be able to sleep.
My Fourth of July (if you'll excuse the abrupt change of topic,) has actually been fairly uneventful (in fact, if you're having trouble sleeping as well, this post may help you). We spent part of the weekend anchored in Big Bay, Madeline Island, Lake Superior, Wisconsin (sorry but I felt clarification was necessary). While Mom and Dad chatted and waded on shore with a bunch of other, older boaters, Amy and I pretty much sat on the back deck with the dogs and read all day Saturday. Hence the sunburn.
We headed back to the harbor Saturday night, and I happily slept through the first few hours of the Fourth. This morning (or yesterday morning technically, but you know what I mean) I awoke to the boat rocking fairly violently. Apparently, there was some sort of storm coming, so we decided to just pack up and start the drive home early so as to avoid it. While everyone else carried stuff to the car, I sat by the dogs to make sure Ruby didn't do another nose dive into the water (she did one Saturday morning and one of our neighbors had to rescue her; she can swim and all, but since she was tied up the leash was sort of strangling her as she paddled).
Once we were home and unpacked, I promptly got into bed and slept for three hours (certainly a factor of my current insomnia). After dinner we played Mexican train, and then drifted off to do separate things. I showered and headed back to bed. And here I am, 4 hours later. Still here, still awake.
You know, I wouldn't mind this at all if I weren't so sure that work will be an absolute nightmare tomorrow if I'm exhausted from lack of sleep. I really do like this time of night (or day (again, if we're being technical)).
Crime and Punishment, eh (gosh, I fail at segues)? I guess I can elaborate on that a bit. I got the book for a graduation present from a neighbor who lives down the street from me. It was actually really sweet of him to give it to me; I don't know him especially well or anything like that. It's a beautiful edition, too. Heavy and green and embossed with gold on the side. Beautifully intimidating.
I've been meaning to read it for this past year, but just haven't got around to it. It is a rather large undertaking. It is Russian. But I'm hoping that if I make a goal of getting through a few chapters a day, and if I have another book going on the side, it won't be too bad. Oh no, I'm sorry if I'm making this out to be a punishment (no pun intended with the title) of sorts. I'm sure that I'll enjoy it once I get started (it's not a classic for nothing), it's simply that with books like this, getting started is usually the tough part.
What is really making me adamant about reading Crime and Punishment (you might as well know before you erect a statue in my honor), is that I had a dream about it the other night. I don't remember much of the dream, just that in it I read Crime and Punishment, and I was telling someone that I had read it, and they were quite impressed with me. That's it.
Above all else, though, I think I'm slightly being guilted by the fact that a 19-almost-20-year-old English major who has never read anything Russian is slightly disappointing, and slightly at a disadvantage to all the other 19-almost-20 English majors who have read heavy Russian novels.
Alright, I think I'll leave off on the rambling and try once again to get to sleep.
A final shout out to the neighbors: the Fourth of July has been over for two hours and twelve minutes now. Please cease the fireworks and the wild hollering so that your lovely neighbor's upcoming attempt to drift off will not be in vain. Thanks much.
I started reading Crime and Punishment.
I put aloe on my sunburn.
I crept out of bed and turned on the air conditioning.
I imagined things.
But if there's one thing I've learned in my almost 20 years of life, it's that there's absolutely no point to tossing and turning in bed when you know you won't be able to sleep.
My Fourth of July (if you'll excuse the abrupt change of topic,) has actually been fairly uneventful (in fact, if you're having trouble sleeping as well, this post may help you). We spent part of the weekend anchored in Big Bay, Madeline Island, Lake Superior, Wisconsin (sorry but I felt clarification was necessary). While Mom and Dad chatted and waded on shore with a bunch of other, older boaters, Amy and I pretty much sat on the back deck with the dogs and read all day Saturday. Hence the sunburn.
We headed back to the harbor Saturday night, and I happily slept through the first few hours of the Fourth. This morning (or yesterday morning technically, but you know what I mean) I awoke to the boat rocking fairly violently. Apparently, there was some sort of storm coming, so we decided to just pack up and start the drive home early so as to avoid it. While everyone else carried stuff to the car, I sat by the dogs to make sure Ruby didn't do another nose dive into the water (she did one Saturday morning and one of our neighbors had to rescue her; she can swim and all, but since she was tied up the leash was sort of strangling her as she paddled).
Once we were home and unpacked, I promptly got into bed and slept for three hours (certainly a factor of my current insomnia). After dinner we played Mexican train, and then drifted off to do separate things. I showered and headed back to bed. And here I am, 4 hours later. Still here, still awake.
You know, I wouldn't mind this at all if I weren't so sure that work will be an absolute nightmare tomorrow if I'm exhausted from lack of sleep. I really do like this time of night (or day (again, if we're being technical)).
Crime and Punishment, eh (gosh, I fail at segues)? I guess I can elaborate on that a bit. I got the book for a graduation present from a neighbor who lives down the street from me. It was actually really sweet of him to give it to me; I don't know him especially well or anything like that. It's a beautiful edition, too. Heavy and green and embossed with gold on the side. Beautifully intimidating.
I've been meaning to read it for this past year, but just haven't got around to it. It is a rather large undertaking. It is Russian. But I'm hoping that if I make a goal of getting through a few chapters a day, and if I have another book going on the side, it won't be too bad. Oh no, I'm sorry if I'm making this out to be a punishment (no pun intended with the title) of sorts. I'm sure that I'll enjoy it once I get started (it's not a classic for nothing), it's simply that with books like this, getting started is usually the tough part.
What is really making me adamant about reading Crime and Punishment (you might as well know before you erect a statue in my honor), is that I had a dream about it the other night. I don't remember much of the dream, just that in it I read Crime and Punishment, and I was telling someone that I had read it, and they were quite impressed with me. That's it.
Above all else, though, I think I'm slightly being guilted by the fact that a 19-almost-20-year-old English major who has never read anything Russian is slightly disappointing, and slightly at a disadvantage to all the other 19-almost-20 English majors who have read heavy Russian novels.
Alright, I think I'll leave off on the rambling and try once again to get to sleep.
A final shout out to the neighbors: the Fourth of July has been over for two hours and twelve minutes now. Please cease the fireworks and the wild hollering so that your lovely neighbor's upcoming attempt to drift off will not be in vain. Thanks much.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Sleep Aids
I haven't been sleeping well lately. I go to bed at around 1 a.m., and I wake up around 11 a.m., which sounds like a solid amount of sleep, although it's not considering that in between those two times I wake up continually. When my alarm goes off at 11, I'm not tired, exactly; I simply feel like I missed out on sleep, like my brain isn't fully satiated. It's very similar to the feeling you get when you're incredibly thirsty, but you can only have a small glass of water. It doesn't quite hit the spot.
I wasn't sure why exactly I wasn't sleeping well until my mom suggested today that maybe it's because I haven't had enough mental stimulation. That kind of makes sense. Thanks, Mom.
I mean, think about it: I went from going to class every day and having to concentrate and take notes and grasp the material and then go back to my dorm and study for hours, to sitting around and reading and watching TV and working maybe 30 hours a week on average. My work can be stressful, sure, but at this point I know enough about what's going on that I have to concentrate a lot less.
How to get that mental stimulation back? Well, I have a few ideas.
Idea No. 1: Begin teaching myself German.
My Dad has old German textbooks around somewhere, and I found a great free language teaching website called livemocha that is very helpful. I am taking German 1 in the fall, but it certainly can't hurt to get a bit of a head start.
Idea No. 2: Write more.
I haven't worked on any of my stories for a few days. I should definitely get back on that.
Idea No. 3: Run around outside more.
I work so much that I don't really have time to get much exercise, or even to be out in the fresh air. I should take advantage of the time I have at home and go for a bike ride or something.
I wasn't sure why exactly I wasn't sleeping well until my mom suggested today that maybe it's because I haven't had enough mental stimulation. That kind of makes sense. Thanks, Mom.
I mean, think about it: I went from going to class every day and having to concentrate and take notes and grasp the material and then go back to my dorm and study for hours, to sitting around and reading and watching TV and working maybe 30 hours a week on average. My work can be stressful, sure, but at this point I know enough about what's going on that I have to concentrate a lot less.
How to get that mental stimulation back? Well, I have a few ideas.
Idea No. 1: Begin teaching myself German.
My Dad has old German textbooks around somewhere, and I found a great free language teaching website called livemocha that is very helpful. I am taking German 1 in the fall, but it certainly can't hurt to get a bit of a head start.
Idea No. 2: Write more.
I haven't worked on any of my stories for a few days. I should definitely get back on that.
Idea No. 3: Run around outside more.
I work so much that I don't really have time to get much exercise, or even to be out in the fresh air. I should take advantage of the time I have at home and go for a bike ride or something.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Cheer Up, Sleepy Jean
Daydream Believer is my ballad of the day. Actually, I suppose it's the ballad of my life, in a way. The only thing that could possibly make that song better would be if Paul McCartney did a rendition of it...
Anyway, what have I been doing all day? Oh, reading mostly. Still engrossed in Dracula. How wonderful it is to really be able to submerge in a book without the constant nudge of schoolwork against my brain. Well, scratch that. I actually have a paper for Anthropology that I should be working on right now, but I've proven once again that I'm rather a successful procrastinator. Cape and tights always, always optional (depends on the weather).
Despite the vampire scare last night (see previous post), I think I fell asleep the minute I turned out my lamp; I didn't even wake up when the dog started barking madly at 6 a.m. because the smoke alarm was chirping. And I'm a light sleeper.
The point of this post, I've decided, besides updating you about the goings-on in my life, is to cheer you up a bit. The glorious few weeks of spring we had seem to have been eclipsed by today's cold, gloomy weather, and I'm afraid that everyone around here has been down about it. Don't worry, dear readers. Now that spring has tainted the air and reduced the ice to dirty slush, it cannot be surpressed for long.
Keep your chin up.
Anyway, what have I been doing all day? Oh, reading mostly. Still engrossed in Dracula. How wonderful it is to really be able to submerge in a book without the constant nudge of schoolwork against my brain. Well, scratch that. I actually have a paper for Anthropology that I should be working on right now, but I've proven once again that I'm rather a successful procrastinator. Cape and tights always, always optional (depends on the weather).
Despite the vampire scare last night (see previous post), I think I fell asleep the minute I turned out my lamp; I didn't even wake up when the dog started barking madly at 6 a.m. because the smoke alarm was chirping. And I'm a light sleeper.
The point of this post, I've decided, besides updating you about the goings-on in my life, is to cheer you up a bit. The glorious few weeks of spring we had seem to have been eclipsed by today's cold, gloomy weather, and I'm afraid that everyone around here has been down about it. Don't worry, dear readers. Now that spring has tainted the air and reduced the ice to dirty slush, it cannot be surpressed for long.
Keep your chin up.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Blogging From Bed (Sleep Musings)
Here's a bit of a poem for you, because I'm in that kind of mood:
Sleep (this one's original, folks)
It's just hush,
and the world has relented for a minute
while I lay down and look about,
craning my head above bits
of tall grass
and books
that smell of dust and leather.
It is like when you stay in one place for so long
that you cannot feel yourself anymore.
I can't feel myself
but I know I'm
Drifting.
Sleep (this one's original, folks)
It's just hush,
and the world has relented for a minute
while I lay down and look about,
craning my head above bits
of tall grass
and books
that smell of dust and leather.
It is like when you stay in one place for so long
that you cannot feel yourself anymore.
I can't feel myself
but I know I'm
Drifting.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Before I Sleep
Right now:
Water is dripping through the radiator, making a distinctively wet sound as it bounces off bits of old pipe.
The window is open, and the lovely March 1st air is peering through the screen.
Ally snores above me. Her hair flutters off her nose with each breath.
"Miles to go before I sleep."
The stack of flash cards grows ever higher.
The minutes tick off into space.
I've put on my taboo Stanford sweatshirt (no one can see it now).
The end is almost in sight.
Water is dripping through the radiator, making a distinctively wet sound as it bounces off bits of old pipe.
The window is open, and the lovely March 1st air is peering through the screen.
Ally snores above me. Her hair flutters off her nose with each breath.
"Miles to go before I sleep."
The stack of flash cards grows ever higher.
The minutes tick off into space.
I've put on my taboo Stanford sweatshirt (no one can see it now).
The end is almost in sight.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
I Need Some Sleep
So today is the big MOA trip that I've been planning forever with some college friends. I'm excited, yet I'm worried as well.
Hence the lack of sleep.
I woke up at about 7:00 this morning because I abruptly remembered that I forgot to get the keys to the car from my sister. I leapt out of bed just as she was getting into my neighbor's car to go to school. Despite my flinging opon of the front door and shouting, she didn't notice me.
I went back inside to find that Mom had left a spare pair of car keys at my place on the table, along with the GPS.
So that was taken care of.
I went back to bed, but have basically been tossing and turning for about an hour now.
Sometimes I wish I could just turn my brain off and not think for a few hours.
I also have a stuffed-up nose from lack of sleep.
I'm listening to the Eels (I Need Some Sleep). It's a good song, though it's one of those songs that you only listen to when you're doing the thing that the song is talking about (aka being up really late/early and can't get back to sleep).
I need some sleep
Time to put the old horse down
I'm in too deep
And the wheels keep spinning round
Everyone says I'm getting down too low
Everyone says: "You just gotta let it go"
"You just gotta let it go"
I just gotta let it go
Hence the lack of sleep.
I woke up at about 7:00 this morning because I abruptly remembered that I forgot to get the keys to the car from my sister. I leapt out of bed just as she was getting into my neighbor's car to go to school. Despite my flinging opon of the front door and shouting, she didn't notice me.
I went back inside to find that Mom had left a spare pair of car keys at my place on the table, along with the GPS.
So that was taken care of.
I went back to bed, but have basically been tossing and turning for about an hour now.
Sometimes I wish I could just turn my brain off and not think for a few hours.
I also have a stuffed-up nose from lack of sleep.
I'm listening to the Eels (I Need Some Sleep). It's a good song, though it's one of those songs that you only listen to when you're doing the thing that the song is talking about (aka being up really late/early and can't get back to sleep).
I need some sleep
Time to put the old horse down
I'm in too deep
And the wheels keep spinning round
Everyone says I'm getting down too low
Everyone says: "You just gotta let it go"
"You just gotta let it go"
I just gotta let it go
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Current Events
It's been a good few weeks since I last blogged. And by 'good few weeks' I don't only mean the time period, but the good quality of the time period. That's right; college is still amazing. That's right; I did just use a semicolon (thanks, College Writing). Here's what's been going down since last I wrote:
1. I made MCSA (UMM's version of student council). To run, I had to submit a petition of reason to the school paper stating why I should be elected. And I got voted in! We had a meeting on Sunday, which I was a bit nervous about because all the upperclassman members were there as well as the new members. It was fine though; what a nice group! I'm just really excited to be part of it! I was in student council in middle school, but didn't even run in high school since I was new to the district and didn't think I'd make it.
2. I've been writing weekly articles for to University Register, which evidently makes me a staff writer. I've also been lucky enough to have my articles on the front page for every issue. This, however, may have more to do with the topic of my articles than the quality of my writing, though I hope it takes both into consideration.
3. I've made a lot of new friends. Pine Hall, my dorm, is the smallest underclassman hall on campus-only 80 people total, so we all know each other pretty well. We're currently working on making a movie entitled Pirates of the Caribbean, the Musical, for the annual UMM film festival. Ship scenes will be filmed in the pool.
I guess that's all I have to say for now. I've been so madly busy that it's hard to find time to sleep, let alone blog. Naps have become my best friend.
1. I made MCSA (UMM's version of student council). To run, I had to submit a petition of reason to the school paper stating why I should be elected. And I got voted in! We had a meeting on Sunday, which I was a bit nervous about because all the upperclassman members were there as well as the new members. It was fine though; what a nice group! I'm just really excited to be part of it! I was in student council in middle school, but didn't even run in high school since I was new to the district and didn't think I'd make it.
2. I've been writing weekly articles for to University Register, which evidently makes me a staff writer. I've also been lucky enough to have my articles on the front page for every issue. This, however, may have more to do with the topic of my articles than the quality of my writing, though I hope it takes both into consideration.
3. I've made a lot of new friends. Pine Hall, my dorm, is the smallest underclassman hall on campus-only 80 people total, so we all know each other pretty well. We're currently working on making a movie entitled Pirates of the Caribbean, the Musical, for the annual UMM film festival. Ship scenes will be filmed in the pool.
I guess that's all I have to say for now. I've been so madly busy that it's hard to find time to sleep, let alone blog. Naps have become my best friend.
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