The heart may freeze or it can burn. The pain will ease if I can learn.
Due to last night's government assignment, I was up until 2 in the morning, destined to achieve it's completion. As a result of said procrastination retaliation, I completely, totally, and in all other ways...CRASHEDwhen I reached my humble abode this afternoon.
I had previously passed out in the parking lot of the local library, but had revived myself long enough to send my tired self tumbling into the squishi pillow before me. And alas, I pounced into Dreamland with eager anticipation.
I was awoken by the sounds of my Mother scurrying about in the kitchen, and Jenni's noisy rampage in the northern corner of the room. With groggy slowness, my alarm clock slowly came into focus. I realized I had fallen asleep in my contact lenses again, thus explaining the odd partially blind feeling that was lurking about my eyelids.
I gained the ability to read the numbers displayed on the screen of the digital clock. It read 5:56. I observed that I was still in my uniform, and put my hand up to my head and felt the sequined headband that was stationed there. In utter confusion, I wondered how long I had slept.
I again took notice of the muffled scuffles in the kitchen area, and the fact that my sister was in her St. Raphael DA day clothing. WTF. Exactly how long had I been under the seduction of the sandman?
I sprung from the quilt and peeked out the window. It was dark. Odd, very odd. It typically didn't fade to the dark shades of ebony until after at least 7 or so. Pondering over this peculularity, I gazed into the kitchen.
My father was dressed for work, and yelled for me to 'go ahead and come on out there.' His exact words to me every morning whenever we get ready to leave for school.
I silently began to freak out. I had slept over FIFTEEN HOURS, and no one had thought to wake me up. I examined my cell phone, but alas there were no missed calls, and it did not possess the ability to let me know the AM/PM hour. I flipped out of bed, much to my sisters fright and took her by the shoulders.
I wished to interrogate her as to exactly what was going on, but she stared at me blankly when I hesitated. This was absurd. (word copyright Laura Bauer.) Then a thought struck me, if this was the case, if I had truly slept through the afternoon and evening besides...
...at least I was ready for school. Stumbling around, I finally meandered into the living center of my home. It was there that I received an indication that I had misjudged the time by roughly 12 hours. My Mother was not, as I had hypothesized, fixing morning toast and the like, but in fact, a batch of baked potatoes. Unless of course she had decided to provide the family with nourishment in hashed browns preprocessed form, it was still the month of November.
I feel like I’ve been given back 12 hours of my life that I thought I had wasted. Unfortunately, instead of using them in a productive fashion, like say, doing homework, or you know, taking off my tennis shoes, I loitered about the house for the the rest of the onset of twilight.
And with that, a Happy December to you all. :-) Tally ho!