...and then I discovered FIRE!

Obviously, Things I Love Thursday did not happen. Indeed, this week contained a Thursday.  And of course, there were things I loved. Like successfully leaving my room with clothes on right-side out for five straight days. And professors who cancel class for the rest of the week.  And managing to get out of bed in the morning. I know your world came crashing down on Thursday when you checked and nothing was here. Well guess what?

GET OVER YOURSELF.

Nope, nope, I take that back. That was uncouth and uncalled for. I apologize, I left my social graces somewhere back in last Monday.  It all comes down to one thing:
Not getting enough sleep.
You thought I was going to say my thesis, didn't you. Well I didn't.

Seriously, I have only been averaging 3.5 hours every night for the last week.
Well ok, it IS because of my thesis.

If cameras followed me around 24/7 I feel as though my words and actions this week would have proven to be comedy gold.  I don't know how people survive who get <6 hours of sleep on a regular basis. 

It made me think, though.  It's amazing how a lack of just one thing can reduce us to animal-like behavior. I remember how to eat and walk and talk (even that was a stretch) but aside from basic motor functions, I am in a state of Neanderthal.  As I write this, I am sitting on the floor in a hair shirt, mindlessly scratching my backside and watching a fly buzz around the room.

Jokes.

But seriously.  The power of reason and the ability to control my emotions are severely handicapped. Example time.

Scenario 1: A harsh buzzing noise jars me out of a deep sleep. I blink repeatedly. Still buzzing. I notice the orange thing lighting up on my makeshift bed stand. I pick it up and smack its face. Buzzing stops = yay. This happens a couple more times.  After awhile, I notice there are numbers that say 8:17. I stare at it: "But what does it meeeeeean.....?" I lay back down and think about it. Twenty minutes later, I have finally connected all the dots to realize that it was the alarm clock on my phone and I have to be upright, dressed, and in class in 23 minutes. I would like to point out that I set my alarm for 8:00, but it took me thirty-seven minutes to figure out what was happening.

Usually my brain is like a slightly used Mac: moderately fast start up and then snappy response time for the rest of the day.  In this case, my brain was my family's old Gateway PC running Windows '95: a lot of cranking and rumbling but nothing really happening for an obscenely long time. I feel like I have been going through the week with a pixelated hourglass over my head.

Ellie Loading. Please wait.



Scenario 2: Having put aside all regular weekly activities to write, I waited until I was down to my absolutely last piece of clothing that was publically acceptable to wear before doing laundry.  Even so, some would say I crossed the line. Yes Mom, I did wear that maroon RIT sweatshirt from the 80s. Yes, it still has a massive hole in the armpit.  And yes, I feel the sting of your disapproval from 120 miles away.

Anyway, the story. I grabbed the detergent and took enough clothes to get me through another week down to the laundry room. There are approximately 125 people that live in my building. We only have three washers and four dryers at our disposal.  Poor planning, Mr. Facilities Director, poor planning.
So as usual, all machines are in use. By the same person. Fortunately there are only 3 minutes left on all of the washers. Sweet, I can get my stuff in soon. But of course not.  The person came back with a full hamper.

Person: "Ohhhh were you wanting to use the washers?"

Pompous Creature in my head: "No, sometimes  I come down here with a basket of clean clothes and silently mock people who are doing their laundry."

Out loud: "....yes."

Person: "ohhh...this is awkward...I still have three loads left....I'm going to keep using the washers."

Pompous Creature in my head: "for real? you already have three loads in the washer and four in the dryer!!! girl please! are you doing laundry for yourself or the Duggar family? "

Out loud: "Well can I at least use one of the machines?"

Person: "ohhh man...no....sorry..."

Pompous Creature in my head: "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO YOU?!?"

Out loud: "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO YOU?!?"

.....whoops.

Apparently when I am angry, I am a man-lady in a business suit. And the other person was actually a girl. Whatever, my clip art options are limited.

And then I stomped out. Usually the biting, snarky comments don't make it past the gate but friends, Romans, and fellow countrymen, consider the gate broken. What surprised me most was how quickly I got angry.  It was borderline rage.  I don't do 'rage'. Especially not over something as silly as someone being inconsiderate in the laundry room. And I definitely do not play the "I'm more important that you" card. Like ever. Even though the Pompous Creature in my head constantly revels in the glory of being both the Hall Governor and the Student Office Staff Supervisor.  I am fully aware that both titles mean nothing outside of my residence hall. Which is why don't walk around wearing a crown and an attitude.

  

I believe these two scenarios have effectively illustrated the extent of my tiredness.  Which begs the question, what in the world am I doing blogging at 2 in the morning?  Well, I'm actually at work right now, keeping the chair warm and the lights on til 7:30 a.m. Yay third shift!! Clearly, being Student Office Staff Supervisor is rife with perks.

And so I blog. Well, you're welcome for the update. This cavewoman must go pour the rest of her elegant prose into a certain unfinished thesis.

Oh, and if you're wondering why I am able to write so coherently through my fatigue, it is a delicate mix of 65% extensive practice from nearly four years of college, 20% unsafe amounts of caffeine, 10% pure talent, and 5% Wheat Thins.  But I am a trained professional so kids, don't try this at home.