Great Googly Moogly -- Two Posts in One Week!
Okay, so this exercise thing that I was doing? Apparently my subconscious has decided that we (I am refusing to acknowledge my subconscious as a part of myself right now because we are having a tiff) no longer need exercise.
For the second week in a row, I have missed my class because I overslept.
I don’t know if I’ve described the class, but it meets at 5:30 a.m. It meets downtown and because we live in the boonies I have to get up a little before 5:00 a.m. to make it in time – and this is with my workout clothes carefully laid out so that I practically fall into them as I roll out of bed and stumble blearily to the car. 5:00 a.m. is, I feel, an hour when most sensible, non-bloodsucking creatures should be tucked in bed with visions of sugar plums, etc. (Or, at least, that is what I always supposed – there is always what I consider a shocking amount of traffic on the road at that hour.) But I digress. At any rate, for the first 6-week session of this class, I think I missed one class because I overslept.
This time around, I have missed four. FOUR. And we're only two weeks in!
My alarm is set before I go to bed, and I obsessively check it to make sure it is (a) in fact, on, (b) set for “a.m.” instead of “p.m.” and (c) set at a suitably earsplitting volume. (You live and learn.) Anyway, alarm: check. So when Wilbur’s alarm goes off at 6:00 or 6:30 and he feels for me groggily and asks why I’m still there, it’s a bit disturbing. Because I’m not supposed to be there – I’m supposed to be downtown running up and down the stairs of a parking garage, carrying weights and trying to remember why I’m doing this instead of sleeping in and stopping by Krispy Kreme on the way to work, which is so much easier.
I am not sure what is happening. Are we both sleeping through an entire hour of incredibly annoying Hawk-and-Tom lame-o morning show shenanigans before my alarm gives up and shuts off? Am I reaching out reflexively to turn the alarm off, without even waking up? Am I, perish the thought, going to bed too early and reaching dead-to-the-world status only between the hours of 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning? Do I fall asleep with the TV on so frequently that the sound of voices and music no longer triggers a response?
We both can’t possibly be sleeping through an hour of that rot without noticing, and at this point I’ve got it turned up so loud that I simply can’t imagine that the first and third options are plausible. Next week, I’m moving the alarm clock outside of arm’s reach, and we’ll see if that makes a difference. Until then, my subconscious is on probation until it can get back in touch with my super-ego and regain a sense of freaking responsibility.
For the second week in a row, I have missed my class because I overslept.
I don’t know if I’ve described the class, but it meets at 5:30 a.m. It meets downtown and because we live in the boonies I have to get up a little before 5:00 a.m. to make it in time – and this is with my workout clothes carefully laid out so that I practically fall into them as I roll out of bed and stumble blearily to the car. 5:00 a.m. is, I feel, an hour when most sensible, non-bloodsucking creatures should be tucked in bed with visions of sugar plums, etc. (Or, at least, that is what I always supposed – there is always what I consider a shocking amount of traffic on the road at that hour.) But I digress. At any rate, for the first 6-week session of this class, I think I missed one class because I overslept.
This time around, I have missed four. FOUR. And we're only two weeks in!
My alarm is set before I go to bed, and I obsessively check it to make sure it is (a) in fact, on, (b) set for “a.m.” instead of “p.m.” and (c) set at a suitably earsplitting volume. (You live and learn.) Anyway, alarm: check. So when Wilbur’s alarm goes off at 6:00 or 6:30 and he feels for me groggily and asks why I’m still there, it’s a bit disturbing. Because I’m not supposed to be there – I’m supposed to be downtown running up and down the stairs of a parking garage, carrying weights and trying to remember why I’m doing this instead of sleeping in and stopping by Krispy Kreme on the way to work, which is so much easier.
I am not sure what is happening. Are we both sleeping through an entire hour of incredibly annoying Hawk-and-Tom lame-o morning show shenanigans before my alarm gives up and shuts off? Am I reaching out reflexively to turn the alarm off, without even waking up? Am I, perish the thought, going to bed too early and reaching dead-to-the-world status only between the hours of 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning? Do I fall asleep with the TV on so frequently that the sound of voices and music no longer triggers a response?
We both can’t possibly be sleeping through an hour of that rot without noticing, and at this point I’ve got it turned up so loud that I simply can’t imagine that the first and third options are plausible. Next week, I’m moving the alarm clock outside of arm’s reach, and we’ll see if that makes a difference. Until then, my subconscious is on probation until it can get back in touch with my super-ego and regain a sense of freaking responsibility.
posted by JAM at 9:39 AM
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