Waking Up Is Hard To Do

Today, I woke up at five. Cringe. I mean, the thought of five in the morning inevitably brings a grimace to mostly all normal peoples' faces. It's just sort of...disgusting. Yes, the sunrise is pretty and it's peaceful and all that...but not when there are only five hours of sleep to back it up, you know? Then, it's like waking up to death. Or, at least wishing to die instead of actually getting up the courage to lift your glorious, warm, cuddly covers off your fetal-positioned body, be hit by the chilling morning air, and stumble into the bathroom to start the day.

Nevertheless, I very reluctantly made myself get up. I had to, you see, I had college classes in a mere four hours, and my college was 2 hours away. So, with heavy, heavy eyelids and that horrible feeling of being far too tired to eat in the pit of my stomach, I half-heartedly got ready for the day.

The drive back to college was not so good. I sat up front next to my older sister, the driver, and my twin sister sat in the back, and promptly fell asleep, her head coushined against the loads of stuff we were bringing with us. My older sister and I pumped up our not-so-pumpin' mix of John Mayer, Jason Mraz, Joshua Radin, and the likes. We talked slash fell into lapses of exhaustion-caused silence most of the way there, and at one point, I heard from a long distance my name, followed by, "You have to stay awake, or I won't!". Oops.

When we finally reached college, I stepped outside myself and thought about my life, in retrospect. It was at this deep, psychological ponderance that I climbed into my loft and slept for three hours, until I woke up for the only class I felt I should go to- the one that had a test today.

I guess the point of this anecdote is to say that people everywhere suffer the horrid, disgruntled, ungodly feeling of waking up far too early every day, and as I usually get to sleep until eight, I do not.

Early risers of the world, I salute you.