It’s 7 a.m. and my alarm is going off.
My iPhone makes an irritating beeping noise, the one that makes me stuff my head under my pillow in the hope that the sound will subside. It doesn’t in the slightest.
The alarm is reminding me that I have a class in an hour, and it is also mocking me for being one of the chumps that signed up for an 8 a.m. in the first place. I am entirely to blame on this one.
I may tap the snooze button once, maybe twice. But I have never and will never be the roommate who strings together a series of 10 different alarms before I finally decide to wake up — that’s not only annoying, but also counterproductive to sleeping in the first place.
Twenty minutes have passed since I was supposed to get up, so it’s probably a good idea to do so now. I swing my legs over my bed and onto the floor, and the moment my feet touch the ground, I realize the grave mistake I have made.
Was this class worth it?
I still experience conflict when attempting to answer that question, but I tell myself to stick with the class … mainly because I am past the drop/add deadline.
There is a certain set of skills involved in making it to and through an 8 a.m. class. The first skill I needed was the ability to keep my eyes open at all costs. Sure, I might at first pour my cereal on the counter instead of into the bowl, but that’s OK. I’ll just have one of my housemates clean it when they wake up two hours from now, because I’m too damn tired.
I avoid idly staring at an object, because it may put me back into a doze. Splashing cold water on my face typically snaps me back to my senses, but I can’t say the same about cold showers. If you like cold showers, I worry for you.
The second skill is the art of being quiet for the sake of your roommates, who were smart enough to not take a class that forced them to wake up this early. I try my best to minimize the noise level. Of course, that’s easier said than done, given the fact that I’m more disoriented than a college student at a football game. I’m clumsy enough when I’ve gotten a good night’s rest, but when you adding just four hours of sleep to the equation, the result is not pretty.
When I’m dressed and walking out the door, the morning chill hits me. This is worse than it seems. The construction workers are beginning their morning routine, causing as much noise as possible to rupture my eardrums.
I eventually make it to my class, which is another way of entering snooze mode. I was able to stay awake up until this point because I’ve always been physically doing something: brushing my teeth, shampooing my hair, getting dressed and carrying a 25-pound backpack. But now I’m going to remain motionless for an hour and a half as I stare at a PowerPoint onscreen.
This is my downfall, as I begin to doze off in my seat and the sound of my professor’s voice slips away.
Was it worth it?
Well sure, because the seats in this room are comfortable enough to sleep in.