This morning, like any other morning, I rolled out of bed at seven a.m., smacked my alarm clock into silence, fumbled my way down the hall, and glared at my reflection in the blinding bathroom light. I hate mornings. Always have, always will. I hate the sun creeping through my bedroom window. I hate the birds chirping in the trees. I especially hate the slow beeping of my alarm clock. Honestly, is there a more obnoxious sound in the world than that of a high pitched, whaling, insistent alarm clock? I don’t think so.
As a child, I came to the realization that I love sleep, and, more specifically, uninterrupted sleep. When my sister was born, I despised her. That small, pink, “bundle of joy” was nothing but a nuisance. She kept interrupting my nap time, and that irritated me. I recall my mother asking me if I wanted to hold my new sister. I looked at the wrinkly, little face, still red from crying, and firmly answered, “No. She woke me up.”
Time hasn’t really changed me, but it has made me wiser. I am still not a morning person. There are days when I want to put black out curtains over the window, shoo the birds away, and take a sledge hammer to my alarm clock. Still though, I face that blinding bathroom light and I somehow make it to class on time (most days).
My new attitude towards mornings, I have to admit, didn’t just come from growing up. It came from realizing that it’s pointless to keep working when you can’t keep your eyes open. I remember working on an art project in high school that consumed entirely too much time. I was busy with life so I put it off too long. I had to work long into the night. Sometime around 4 a.m. when my eyes were burning, and my head ached, and all I wanted to lie down and drift away, I had the ultimate epiphany. While staring at my pencil, I recalled something my sister had said. “Go to bed, Britt. It’ll be easier to do that in the morning.”
What a concept! As difficult as it was to admit, I knew the little nuisance was right (bless her heart). From then on I made an effort, not to procrastinate (Heaven knows I’ll never stop doing that), but to say goodnight when I need to. Life is vastly more enjoyable when you can actually think straight and see clearly.
I have come to believe that I owe a great deal to sleep. I believe that a lack of sleep is the culprit in my worst days, harshest words, and biggest let downs. I believe that my success can be measured by the dreams that come to me in the dead of night, the ones I’ve force into reality. Most of all, I believe that I couldn’t embrace life without really embracing sleep.
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