REM and patterns of sleep
Most days, I manage to hold on until 10 o'clock before I conk out. My falling-asleep routine is a little messed up right now; some days I'll watch a sitcom on my computer until I fall asleep, or more often I'll just shut off the lights and hope I don't think too hard. Last night, however, I was so googly-eyed that I figured around 8:30 that if I didn't go to bed right then I would die of brain leakage.
Now, to understand this next bit, it's necessary to understand that the clocks in my room do not work. I've had them forever, and one of them is so bright that I shove books in front of it on my dresser so it's not visible. There is an analog wall-clock across the room from my bed, but it stopped working years ago, and I've refused to replace the batteries because it is a bird clock. (That means it chirps the hour in a different bird call. The bird calls do not match up to the pictures of the birds on the clock. I can distinguish between 12 bird calls, but for the life of me I cannot tell you what belongs to which bird, as a result.)
Consequently, I use my cell phone as my alarm. I started this in college for my first job (the first job I liked. Not my first job) and never stopped.
Last night, after I fell asleep at 8:30 because I was practically delirious, someone called me at 10.
Normally, this is, well, it's pretty damn annoying. Nobody likes to be woken up before they have to, let alone by somebody who can't seem to recall that you have to wake up when the sun's still in China. Or at the very, very least, in Hawaii.
I thought my alarm had gone off.
I was so out of it that I got up, forced my contacts in, brushed and flossed, showered, shaved, combed, and blow-dried before I noticed that my clock said 10:33. But it was still dark outside. Which made absolutely no sense to me. I had to check with two people before I would really believe that, no, the sun hadn't died. My clock wasn't killed by a freak power outage. I wasn't four hours late, nor was this a dream. I was just drunk from lack of sleep.
I must have looked pretty funny, clutching my towels, gazing around and dazedly asking, "Is it night?" in the middle of the night. Thankfully, for my dignity, no one laughed at me. I wasn't quite so lucky this morning.
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Now, to understand this next bit, it's necessary to understand that the clocks in my room do not work. I've had them forever, and one of them is so bright that I shove books in front of it on my dresser so it's not visible. There is an analog wall-clock across the room from my bed, but it stopped working years ago, and I've refused to replace the batteries because it is a bird clock. (That means it chirps the hour in a different bird call. The bird calls do not match up to the pictures of the birds on the clock. I can distinguish between 12 bird calls, but for the life of me I cannot tell you what belongs to which bird, as a result.)
Consequently, I use my cell phone as my alarm. I started this in college for my first job (the first job I liked. Not my first job) and never stopped.
Last night, after I fell asleep at 8:30 because I was practically delirious, someone called me at 10.
Normally, this is, well, it's pretty damn annoying. Nobody likes to be woken up before they have to, let alone by somebody who can't seem to recall that you have to wake up when the sun's still in China. Or at the very, very least, in Hawaii.
I thought my alarm had gone off.
I was so out of it that I got up, forced my contacts in, brushed and flossed, showered, shaved, combed, and blow-dried before I noticed that my clock said 10:33. But it was still dark outside. Which made absolutely no sense to me. I had to check with two people before I would really believe that, no, the sun hadn't died. My clock wasn't killed by a freak power outage. I wasn't four hours late, nor was this a dream. I was just drunk from lack of sleep.
I must have looked pretty funny, clutching my towels, gazing around and dazedly asking, "Is it night?" in the middle of the night. Thankfully, for my dignity, no one laughed at me. I wasn't quite so lucky this morning.
This entry was originally posted at http://foursweatervests.dreamwidth.org/44021.html. Please comment there using OpenID.