July 22, 2014
Midnight is steadily approaching and I should probably get to sleep considering I have to get up early for work... right after I catch up on this week’s episode of [insert any show with the exception of most CBS sitcoms]. Heading up to bed marks the end of my day and I’m never ready to make the commitment. I always feel like I can cram in a bit more before I throw in the towel.
Once I’m in bed, I actually enjoy the act of falling asleep. I love getting lost in random thought after thought and then, without knowing it, drifting off into sleep. Sometimes I even like to catch myself right as I’m nodding off. I quickly try to backtrack, thought by thought, to figure out how the hell I ended of thinking of that pair of hand-me-down Reebok pumps I had in elementary school.
And then there’s waking up. Each and every weekday morning, I take great pleasure in hitting the snooze button on my iPhone every ten minutes from 6:30 AM to 7:30 AM. I get six moments of pure joy knowing that I can sleep a little longer… until that final alarm sounds, and then I forget how happy I was ten minutes earlier, take a big sigh, and unlock my phone so I can check Facebook. Because who can get out of bed without first catching up what happened those past 7 hours or so when they were completely unconscious.
I can’t put my finger on why the thought of starting a seven hour binge of relaxation sounds unappealing. The same way I can’t figure out why I wouldn’t want to jump out of bed in the morning to enjoy a nice cup of coffee. I think it’s just a matter of accepting change, especially when it’s something that has been occurring every morning and night for the past 30 years.