Sometimes doing the right thing isn't the smart thing...or do I mean that the other way around?
I was pretty pooped last night after finishing up Grave of the Fireflies (very, very sad). I kind of wanted to go for a walk to clear my head, but the weather was conspiring against me. Instead, I decided to make what I thought what a smart decision - I was going to go to bed before midnight. Shocking, I know, but I figured it might be nice to have a Thursday morning where I didn't feel like I was peeling myself off the asphalt after being creamed by a cement mixer. Unfortunately, I am not able (anymore) to function all that well on small amounts of sleep. I went to bed around 10:30.
Getting to sleep wasn't a huge problem. Staying asleep until my alarm went off at 6:30 was a problem. I guess I'm so used to getting significantly less sleep on Wednesday night that I confused the hell out of my system. I woke up around 4:30-5 o'clock and refused to get up. Of course that meant that I nodded off again around 6:00 and was very salty when my alarm went off. Then I stubbornly waited until the damn thing shut the fuck up and didn't get out of bed until 6:45.
OK, consider the lesson learned. I will never again attempt to get a decent amount of sleep on a Wednesday night.
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