What's the deal with sleep? It seems as though it has always had this power over me. When I was a kid, sleep was something that was forced on me; I wanted to be mature and be a part of the action in those mysterious hours after I was told to put head to pillow. And then, as I started being able to stay up later and later because I learned that if I close the door to my room, my parents can't see that the light is still on, sleep became a thing of fond memories, sometimes resurfacing in the middle of Chemistry.
Sleep runs the show, no matter what.
I know that we need a certain amount to function, but I want to know why sleep is so important to me. Is it just because it feels good to lay there in comfort and be given a free pass to do absolutely nothing? That seems legitimate, but a lot of things are enjoyable. They don't dictate me like sleep does. Is it because I fear pain? I don't want to go through a day in discomfort? If I'm a little sore from going for a run (*gasp* Riley exercises?! It must be the apocalypse.) I still manage to get through a day just fine. I barely think about it. Is it because I want my mind to be as sharp as it can be? I haven't used a sharpener in years anyway, it's not like it makes too much difference. Plus, lack of sleep often gives me some of my most entertaining stories (see: Rita, the Family Friendly Pole Dancer).
So why is it that at the hour I feel I should be tucking myself in, if I am not doing so, the clock becomes all I can watch and I realize how quickly time is passing and how much sleep I am not going to get. I know that I'll be fine. This is not life threatening. What's the deal?
*lightbulb*
I'm a creature of routine. As much as I romanticize spontaneity, whenever my routine is broken, I go into my shell and try to keep myself as safe as possible. Change is only good if I control it. When I have to stay up late because I need to finish homework that I should've done eight hours earlier, it feels as if I'm not in control of what I'm doing. My procrastination got the better of me; past me is controlling present me. I like it when present me controls present me. It's nice. It is also a very rare occurance.
When I'm up late (early), not sleeping, it feels like I'm in this weird alternate universe, isolated, and it's a little lonely. My world is supposed to be asleep, but I'm fighting against that and it feels unnatural.
The overhead lights shouldn't stay on passed eleven. Then it can be bedside lamps until four for all I care. Reading into the morning feels natural. Typing and social networking and feeling my whole upper body cramp up from sitting hunched in the same position, does not.
Sleep is just another part of my old routine that I'm refusing to defend, along with caring about grades, and being quiet. On the upside, it never takes me long to fall asleep anymore. Head, pillow, out.
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