14

Good Morning…I Think?

So, today, I went shopping and then was super hungry, so I had dinner at Journey, the Chinese/Japanese/crazy seafood (and everything else) all you can eat buffet, and after three plates, I was so full I could have rolled home. When I got home, I was so tired that I completely passed out in bed, in my clothes, with my laptop next to me.

I opened my eyes, and it was 7:50. Darn, I thought, must’ve slept the whole night in my clothes. Oh well, that’s okay, time to get up anyway. Then I looked outside as I was getting up and going through my sock drawer, and I realized that it was kind of dark for for this hour in the morning.

So I checked my phone, and it was, of course, 7:50 PM, and still Sunday, and I had a meeting to get to at 8 PM. I ended up getting to the meeting just a few minutes late, but seriously, how did I sleep for two hours, max, and think it was the next morning?

It’s weird…I’m kind of sick of this weekend, which I needed so desperately, but now that I’ve had a day of mostly nothing, I’m kind of ready to go back to doing stuff. Kind of.

How’s your weekend going?

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13

An Actual Snoozy Day: The Aftermath of Yesterday

So today I had an actual snoozy day.

I fell right asleep at 1:30 AM, and woke up around noon, sweating and in a pool of saliva, feeling like a bag of rocks, and migrated over to the couch, where I slept for another few hours, and woke up in even more saliva. I guess even my glands were sore. Then, back to bed. I don’t think that I was fully conscious until about 3 PM. I’m feeling better now, after having had some food and drink, but today was mostly wasted because I was just so darn sore from yesterday’s excursion.

Ouch.

5

Thoughts from Scumbag Brain

The past few days have been super hectic, but suffice it to say that I am officially back in Madison, attempting to get back into a routine, have gotten over my home-cold (except for some chapped lips), and had a nearly flawless trip home via Atlanta. Seriously, it couldn’t have gone better unless I’d chartered a private jet; I was first in line in security at BWI and got through in about five minutes; I traded my middle seat for an aisle seat because these two guys wanted to sit together; I got to Atlanta early enough to go nose around in the fancy terminal and enjoy pasta, chili, and peach lemonade; although I sat with a family with a bunch of kids on my flight to Madison, I traded my window seat for one of the kids’ aisle seats and thus became the hero of the flight; I managed to finish a book and get some sleep; and my Uber driver was really nice. That was a lot of semicolons. My apartment, though, was messier than I thought it was, so it’s been cleaning time.

But other than that…

So, I’m sure that you’ve heard of (or experienced) Scumbag Brain. It is also a meme, but basically refers to those times when your brain wants to think about things or do things that the rest of your being does not want at the moment.

I experienced this just about every night I was home. Allow me to set the scene.

Scumbag Brain

Place: My parents’ house

Time: 11:30 PM

Rational Brain: It’s 11:30 PM and you barely slept last night. Shouldn’t you go to bed?

Scumbag Brain: Yeah, but it’s only 10:30 PM at home and you don’t want to mess up your body clock.

12:30 AM.

Rational Brain: Bed?

Scumbag Brain: No! Up!

1:00 AM

Rational Brain: I’m tired, and think it’s time for bed. And look, it’s only midnight.

Scumbag Brain: Haha, it’s 1 AM.

Rational Brain: Screw you, I’m getting ready for bed.

1:30 AM.

Rational Brain: Yay! I have time to read!

Scumbag Brain: But it’s almost 2 AM. Let me think about that.

2:00 AM.

Rational Brain: Now I don’t have any time to read.

Scumbag Brain: Haha! Lights out. Nighty night.

::LIGHTS DOWN. RATIONAL BRAIN IS QUIET. All lines from here on out are SCUMBAG BRAIN::

2:15 AM.

Hey, remember that embarrassing thing you said as a kid? Let’s relive that.

2:30 AM.

What about that other bad thing you did? Let’s go over that.

3:00 AM.

…And that takes care of childhood. Moving onto teenage years…

3:15 AM.

Well, I’m wide awake. How about a song?

3:30 AM.

“But then something went wrong, for Fay Wray and King Kong, they got caught in a celluloid jam.”

“Celluloid jam.”

What comes next?

“something, something, something, outer space.”

Rhymes with “space.” First base? Second base? Chariot race? Can of mace? Pie in the face? A summer place? Ace of Base? Nancy Grace?

3:45 AM.

I should write that down and blog about it. Wait…what?

4:00 AM.

I’m hot, maybe I should go sleep in my sister’s room, it’s cooler and she’s not there.

4:15 AM.

Much better…but this feels awkward, this bed is not as soft and I have to curl up in an awkward position because of the pillows and stuff on the bed.

4:20 AM.

Okay, cooled off, back to my own bed.

4:30 AM

I should write some fan fic!

4:45 AM

That was great, I should start a new blog for fan fic! Is it morning yet? Have I slept at all? Mom always says you sleep more than you think you do.

5:00 AM

So thirsty…should I get up and get a drink of water? No, that’ll definitely wake me up.

5:15 AM

Should I have taken a shower before bed? Do I need a shower? Should I just get up and shower now?

::EVENTUALLY, Jacob falls asleep. No help from SCUMBAG BRAIN.::

Several hours later…

Good morning! What time is it? It’s probably afternoon. Who cares? Okay, just get up and don’t look at the clock until you’ve gotten dressed and ready for the day.

Thanks, Scumbag Brain!

Scene 2.

Sometime in the morning.

::phone rings. JACOB answers phone.::

ME: Hello?

MOM: Good morning!

ME: Mom, why are you calling me from your bedroom across the hall?

MOM: Jacob, you got back to Madison yesterday.

::JACOB looks around, notices that he is in a larger bed, in a different bedroom, in a different city and state.::

ME: Huh. So I did.

2

Three Times I Have Fallen Asleep in Public

Maybe it’s because I haven’t been eating well, or I’m behind on work, or I’m just…I don’t know, overwhelmed, maybe…but I haven’t been inspired by anything lately. I always say one of two things about blogging: a) I’ll edit this entry later, and b) That’s a story for another entry.

So I looked back at some previous posts, and since I could use a good story anyway, here are…

Three Times I Have Fallen Asleep in Public

It should be noted that, as a child, I had a horrible time trying to sleep anywhere but in my own bed, so none of these events occurred until I was at least in high school.

SeaTac Slumber Party

In between my sophomore and junior years of high school, I went on a cruise to Alaska with my dad, aunt, and sister. As it is, Alaska fucks up your sleeping schedule, especially if you are only there for a few days, like we were. So with an already destroyed body clock, we disembarked the ship in Seattle with a whole day before we had to fly home, so we went to explore the city. It started off all right, but after the Space Needle and Pike Place Market, something within me began to unravel. I don’t even quite know why or how it happened, but I just started crying. Nobody did anything to upset me, and I was not hurt, but there I was, sitting in the rental car somewhere in downtown Seattle, bawling for no reason. Unusually, my dad was being very supportive and comforting, telling me, “it’s okay, you’re just overtired, you miss home, you’ve had enough vacation for now, we’ll be home soon.” I can’t remember where my aunt and sister were at the time, but I do remember that I wished that they were around to see my dad being so nice.

After I had cleaned myself up, pulled it together (as much as I could), we returned the rental car and went to the airport. I was still a little shaken up from sobbing my eyes out so hard that I couldn’t breathe, so my dad bought me a book or something in the terminal. Next thing I knew, I was on the plane. Apparently, I had fallen asleep so deeply that I didn’t even remember where I was or why I was sad. And to make it even funnier, I was sprawled out on the floor on my stomach and people were walking over me. I only found that out after I got home; on the ship I had made some friends and exchanged email addresses with them, and two of those friends, a mother and daughter from Tennessee who had arrived at the airport after we did. On their way to their gate, they walked past the gate where we were and they recognized my dad. According to their email, they walked over to say hello/goodbye and asked my dad where I was, at which point he directed them to look towards the floor.

Sleeping Beauty in Boston

In 2008, I attended my fraternity’s national convention, held that year at a Hilton in Boston. I helped out on the workshops committee, participated in events all day, and also had a lot of late nights hanging out with brothers; basically, very little sleep for me for a few days. It was the final day of the convention, and my roommates and I had just checked out of the hotel, and along with some other brothers, were storing our luggage in a small conference room while waiting for the closing event of the convention, the final banquet. Someone started talking about how tired they were, and how they were going to skip out on the final banquet and take a nap instead. In response, someone else crawled under the large conference table in the center of the room, and thinking it was funny, a few others (including myself) joined them and continued the conversation while sitting under the table. I guess I became bored or something, because I crawled over to my bag, got the book I was reading, and crawled back beneath the table.

The next thing I know, I open my eyes to a darkened and empty room. Putting on my glasses, I get up and turn on the lights. Then, I remember about the banquet, and was horrified to think that I had possibly already slept through it. I look around the room for a cell phone or anything, and of course there’s a huge wall clock which lets me know that two hours have gone by. Two hours. Which means that the banquet…is in about fifteen minutes. And I still need to get dressed. Needless to say, I threw on my outfit and booked it to the banquet hall, managing to make it just in time to get a seat.

The convention ended, and I spent the next few days hanging out with Dan, ringing in the new year at his place, hanging out with them, and flying home in January, when plane tickets are cheaper. A few days later, my Facebook becomes clogging with tagged pictures of me from convention. Most of them are fun and happy, but then I get to a picture and see myself passed out on the floor of the conference room, lying on my stomach with my book and glasses lying next to me in a neat little pile.

Whoops.

I was kind of hoping that kind of picture wouldn’t have existed, but at least I was fully clothed and nobody decided to write on me.

One Long Clinic Wait

This happened sometime during the brief period between Israel and Houston where I lived at home. One day, I went with my mom to visit my sister in her classroom in Rockville. She happened to be terribly sick that day, so after following her home, she got into the car with us and we went to a 24-hour urgent care clinic somewhere in the DC/Rockville area. I did not expect this activity, so I didn’t bring any books or my laptop. As my mom and sister are seeing the doctor, I sit in the waiting room…waiting…waiting…waiting…

…And then I’m awake, still sitting in the clinic, but about an hour has passed, it’s gotten a bit darker outside, there are different people sitting around me, and my mom and sister are nowhere to be seen. At first, I think that they’re probably still with the doctor, but then realizing that I had already been waiting a long time before I fell asleep, other thoughts enter my mind. I’m already picturing the headlines: “Have You Seen This 22-Year-Old?” or “Mother Enters Clinic With Two Children; Leaves With Just One.” So my curiosity gets the better of me, and I head outside. At first I had trouble finding where I was because I was in a strange city and disoriented, but after a few minutes of walking around, I found my mother’s car, still in the spot where we parked it. Okay, I thought, so they’re around here, somewhere…but where? There are a few stores nearby and a Dunkin’ Donuts, so I spend a little time poking around there, and then head back to the clinic to wait some more.

Of course, the expected story would end with them being finished with the doctor just as I left, and then leaving to look for me as I came back, but really, it was just a long appointment and they didn’t even know I had fallen asleep or had left the clinic for a good ten-fifteen minutes.

So, yeah.

Not much of a point here, but hey, more stories, and even though I shouldn’t, I actually feel like I’ve been productive for the last hour.

Wow, I have issues.

Here’s a fuzzy bunny.

5

Sleeping On A Couch

If you’ve been wondering where I am and what I’ve been doing for the past few days, the answers are still in Madison, and attempting to keep my parents fed, watered, and entertained while doing the grad student thing as well.

Oh, and sleeping on my couch.

My parents coming to visit me is a wonderful thing. They are two of the most wonderful people I know, and that’s not just because they made me.who I am today. 90% of the time they are agreeable and not super paranoid or weird or obsessive like some other peoples’ parents I know. Well, my dad is obsessed with baseball and my mother with talking with her friends about how great retirement is, but none of those hobbies involve criticizing me, my life choices, or asking me where their grandchildren are (Answer: In time out like all of the rest of the naughty children). Also, they trust me most of the time, which is good, because they should.

I could go on about this, but the main gist of the story is that there are also some bad things about their visit. Usually imaginary, but they’re there. I become a nervous wreck. I have to hide everything in my apartment that could be perceived as a questionable object or risk them asking about it (why do you have a rotary cutter, Jacob?). I have to make sure that they are watered and fed the appropriate amounts at the appropriate times or they get crotchety. Usually my dad more than my mom, but he is also four years older. I usually clean, but my mom cleans it better so I should just remember not to clean for next time. My mom understands, though, that when we are in Madison, we go to Target and Kohl’s and Metcalfe’s, and that we can walk places. She actually does exercise, walking every morning for at least an hour and swimming later in the day. Unlike my mom, my dad hates anything having to do with shopping and will complain whenever his legs or feet start to hurt.

Of course, since this week is the Epic company’s medical conference, just about every hotel room in Dane County is booked, and even my friend who works at a hotel could not override the system. So, when my parents told me that they would just stay with me, I was like…

And that’s why I’ve been sleeping on my couch.

Now, this is not to say I dislike my couch. I actually really like my couch, and it is quite comfortable for activities such as sitting or napping or cuddling. Sleeping one night on it, not too bad. But sleeping multiple nights on it? Yeah, not so much. I know that it’s petty and a small price to pay, but three consecutive nights on the couch is not fun for my back, which must go in weird, spasmodic positions. Two nights ago, I actually slept fairly well. Last night, I think I tried to pry my arm off in my sleep because it was getting in my way, which took a surprising amount of energy.

In general, though, I dislike sleeping on couches. I would probably rather sleep on a floor, unless it is a couch actually made for sleeping and not sitting on, like my sister’s sofa sectional in DC. That sentence had too many letter “s”es in it. I used to be much pickier about where I could and could not sleep, but somewhere along the line, I began to fall asleep in weird places. This probably merits a future entry, but started in high school (face down, sprawled out at an airport), college (under a table in a conference room at a hotel), post-college (in the waiting room of an urgent care center), and in several different hotel lobbies in Houston.

Anyway.

Two nights down, one to go.

But then my parents will go home, I’ll miss them, and my apartment will never be this clean again.

2

The Worst Best Day of the Week

That would be today. Thursday. My classes this semester are Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Friday, I have Shabbat, and on the weekends, I do weekend-type things like shopping and sometimes being social. So that leaves Thursday. Most people would enjoy the fact that they have one day a week with absolutely no regularly scheduled commitments, but I am not one of them. From Sunday to Wednesday, I pull out all the stops, reading like a fiend, writing responses, taking notes and taking names. By the time Wednesday night rolls around, I am exhausted but relieved that another academic week is done. I make a promise to myself that I’ll get a jump on next week’s reading this week by starting first thing Thursday morning…and then it doesn’t happen. What does happen?

  • Wake up.
  • Remember that there’s nothing in my plans today, so sleep a little more.
  • Get up, make a leisurely breakfast, and a hot or iced coffee drink.
  • Head to the couch to catch up with Mental Floss, Ellen DeGeneres, and Jenna Marbles.
  • Promise myself I won’t waste the day.
  • Proceed to read twelve BuzzFeeds, stalk some friends on Facebook, play a round of Word Strips, check my blog stats (welcome, Uganda!), do the New York Times crossword puzzle.
  • Promise myself that I’m done.
  • Remember that I never get to watch Survivor since I’m in class while it’s on, so catch up on that.
  • Convince myself that if I don’t leave the apartment now I won’t leave until dance class (By this time, we’re in the late afternoon).
  • Head out for “lunch” since I “just ate breakfast” (at 10 AM).
  • Do I have enough time to get to the gym? Maybe I’ll go.
  • How about the library? But I have too many books. Oh wait, I need to do some research for that paper. You know what, I should just write the paper. Let’s go home and think about that.
  • Dance class.
  • Get home, unwind after a busy day of nothing. Contemplate studying but usually opt for YouTube.
  • Look at the time, frantically make dinner, call parents, and think of a blog post.
  • Compose and post said blog, and promise self that it’s early bedtime tonight.
  • Proceed to stay up all night (well, 3 at the latest) doing – guess what? – nothing but the Internet, and usually end up feeling bad for myself.
  • Head to bed with a book, and read about five pages before telling myself that I need to get some sleep.

And that’s how I spend my Thursdays, including today. My sad life is sad. And even though I got nine hours of sleep last night, I’m still exhausted. Get it together, Jacob, because your palm is going to have a date with your face come Sunday night.

0

Naptime

They say that naps are for babies and old people.

I beg to differ.

I am 26 years old and in graduate school, with too much work to know where to put it. I waste too much time when I’m awake to waste any more time sleeping, so that’s become an activity of necessity for function rather than activity for pleasure/comfort. Similar to eating, which I should probably do after finishing this blog post, sleep just isn’t an activity that gives me pleasure. It’s just a momentary break to my usually stressful and depressingly lonely life, where I can, you know, do nothing but recharge my internal batteries.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I grew up with (and still have, actually) this wonderful gift called Shabbat, otherwise known as “the day of rest.” To child me, this meant no TV, computer, or fun of any kind other than reading books or running around outside, but now I wish I could spend my Shabbat doing less and less, since these days things tend to distract me from resting.

One of the best things about having Shabbat is that you can just fall asleep in the middle of the day, and no one will judge you or call you lazy. Growing up, my dad’s weekend job was taking naps, and when my mom would fall asleep, I’d cover her with blankets and arrange my stuffed animals around her head. When I fell asleep in the middle of the day…well, usually nothing happened, since everyone else had probably beaten me to it. But even if I ended up waking up when it was time to go to bed again, I’d just eat dinner and then stay up until I could fall asleep again because it’d still be the weekend when I’d wake up.

Today I got in my bed, with some books, closed my eyes…and then it was 6:30, and the film festival was starting, so I headed over there, watched a little bit of the film, and then went to the gym and had a surprising amount of energy. Maybe I’m onto something.

Oh, and dobrodosli to my new visitor from Slovenia. Bring your friends…where did everybody go? Lonely blogger over here.