February 20, 2014

Wait a minute... What time did you say it was?!

Waking up.  One of the most horribly annoying and hated things I have ever experienced.  Well, that's probably not true.  I can think of many many things which I hate more than waking up before I'm darn good and ready. One of those things is waking up before your alarm goes off.  That.  Is just wrong.  It's times like those when I truly hate my brain.  I had a couple of these moments a week or so ago, where I woke up and I totally remembered hearing my alarms go off.  It was a conscious thought too, like, "oh yeah, I've hit snooze on my alarm three or four times now, I absolutely need to get up now."  The first incident when this happened, I checked my phone for the time, and I saw what time it was.  Despite seeing what time it was, I proceeded to turn my light on, put my glasses on, and I almost crawled out of bed.  But then I saw, for the second time what time it actually was.  It was 1:32 AM.  And then I'm sitting on the end of my bed wondering why the heck I decided to get up so freaking early.  It wasn't 5:45 or even 6:00.  I had four hours and fifteen minutes left to sleep!  Of course, in the back of my mind as I sat there rubbing my eyes, I distinctly remembered hearing my alarm go off, and yet it was still set for 5:45.  What was happening?? I thought, Am I going crazy??... No, of course I'm not, that happened a loooong time ago.

That morning I gave up trying to figure out what was going on and went back to sleep.  Only about four days later it happened again, only this time it was worse.

Once again, I woke up and just KNEW that my alarm had gone off.  I even checked my phone like three times to see what time it was.  For some reason, my brain totally read those numbers as the right time to get up and get my day started.  I blearily got up, got my glasses, put on my slippers and headed downstairs.  Usually on school mornings my dad gets up before I do, but when I opened the door to my room, the whole house was dark and the door to his room was still closed.  He'll probably get up in a few minutes.  I thought.  I walked into the kitchen, looked at the oven clock and saw the time for the fourth instance, didn't really read the numbers, and poured myself some cereal.  As I was sitting there eating my breakfast, alone, in the dark house, I was seriously hating my life.  The night before, I had gone to bed pretty late because of homework, and it was seriously catching up with me.  I promise you, this is the most tired I have ever been in my life.  I was literally considering asking my parents to just let me take the day off.  And then my brain is like, "Oh yeah, parents... I wonder why my dad isn't up yet."  

So I sat there.  I probably sat there for ten minutes after I finished my breakfast, growling in my head about hating mornings with a vengeance.  I looked at the clock for the fifth time, saw that the minutes said 35, and then I got up to go wake my dad up because we were going to be late.  I stood up, looked at the clock for the sixth time, and then all logic crumbled around me.  

It was 1:35 AM.  

And I just finished breakfast.

At 1:35 *AM*

And I was going to go wake my dad up.  That would NOT have ended well.  So I stumbled back upstairs wondering why I was so stupid to have A.) woken up at ONE THIRTY AM, B.) decided to eat breakfast at ONE THIRTY AM, and C.) read the clock like six times before I realized that it was ONE THIRTY, AM.  After mentally berating myself for being so freaking stupid, I climbed back into bed and then overslept my ACTUAL alarm.  
I don't know about the rest of you, (I mean, I hope I'm not the only nut who has experienced this...) but my Circadian Rhythm has two left feet.  

No comments:

Post a Comment