Unlike Buddy the Elf, I wouldn’t categorize getting a full 40 minutes of sleep on a given night as great. Last night, I touched the depths of insomnia like never before. There was definitely external factors that got the ball rolling, but once it started downhill there was no stopping this train. I conceded defeat roughly 10 minutes after I woke up. My google, Wikipedia and YouTube searches got weird. My thoughts were like Flubber with momentum. A whole night spent gallivanting the Internet and exploring the far corners of my mind inspite of a good nights sleep. A quick prologue to the ordeal:
Last night around 730, I decide it’s time to wrap up a productive library session of procrastinating and go to the gym. A week of Long Island bagels and pizza makes me self conscious and, despite being its biggest advocate, I need to get the Dad-bod in check. I don’t necessarily make “gains” at the gym, more of “idles.” It’s a mental gain for me, I feel better about myself going despite probably progressing minimally in my physical capabilities. Nonetheless, I make it a habit of saying I’m going to workout 5-7 times a week and actually working out 2-4 times. Pretty standard.
8 PM: This gym session is going to be the first activity in what will be 24 hours of productive activity. I said “I need to have an adult-quality day of production tomorrow.” So the plan is to lift, get a good nights sleep, and awaken at the crack of day to work out today before hitting the library all day.
Why the two lifts in 12 hours you ask? Well, truth be told the intramural football season is fast approaching and I’m only a natural hardo. Winners are made getting up with the sun. Not going to let this last chance to win a championship t-shirt evade me.
I meet up with my roommate in the locker room. As a bio major on the personal training track, he’s equipped with all the latest and greatest in workout supplements. We parlay with each, I’ll provide the Poland spring bottle and he will provide the cocktail of powders for that extra kick. This is a rare occasion for me where I’ll actual look the part of a gym rat. Two scoops of some pre-workout that has me actually excited to workout just at the thought. The placebo effect was probably all I really needed.
After an hour and a half of working out, which involved feeling no additional energy from this quasi-regulated speed and almost killing my roommate by stumbling into his barbell mid-lift, we go home to eat and I plan on heading off to bed shortly there after. I’m not two feet into my house before a jolt of a very, very artificial energy comes over me. I was sweating pure ethanol and urinated a flousecent color. 10 pm and I’m ready to run a marathon.
My roommate reveals he may have put two scoops of a strictly one-scoop recommended product into my water bottle. Good, good, good. Not only did I just do GNC quality cocaine, I did double the recommendation dosage.
I fool myself into thinking 1145 is a solid target for bed, with a 645 wake up still targeted. I’m already getting less than my desired number of hours. I’m a BIG 8 hour guy. Not 7 hours and 57 minutes. 8 hours. This is already a loss in my book.
I get into bed. There is a foreign sensation of rapid rising and spinning as I close my eyes. The feeling you get when you’ve spent an entire day riding roller coasters. Only I didn’t hit Nitro and Kingda Ka, I just tried to not be a fatass and struggled with 4 reps of a lift.
I spend the next hour and fifteen doing my usual four app rotation. Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook. It’s already 1 am and Ive definitely been more optimistic about things before. Miraculously, I fall asleep. Briefly.
I jump awake at 345 like an earthquake just occurred. Sweating like I’m fever stricken and, as a consequence, completely naked.
Close your eyes and go back to bed.
Not happening. After 20 minutes of laying there with just my eyes closed, I give in. Insomnia win this round.
*unlocks the iPhone*
The sequence in which my random browsing occurred:
1. A Google search of Donald Trump. It’s only at 4 in the morning do I truly begin to worry he might get Presidential nod. I text my mom asking if this is the case since I’m unhappy with the google results. I also consider commenting on some idiot’s Facebook post supporting Trump, but I’m not feeling overly ambitious or logical at 4:15 AM. The Trump research leads me to…
2. A search for John Kasick. Does he have a chance? I also noted the parallels between him and Trump. Donald is an extraordinarily ugly man trying to look handsome, and Kasick is a relatively handsome guy who needs to discontinue his relationship with SuperCuts and maybe catch some sleep (because I’m one to talk at this point). The Huffington Post and a couple other esteemed political analysts give Kasick a small chance at being nominated, so after acknowledging God’s existence and praying to him that someone not named Trump or Cruz wins, I move on.
3. Here’s where things get weird. Google search of the greatest TV characters of all time. Pretty shocked Tony Soprano was lower than 3. Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones show up strong in the polls, as does Buffy. My curiosity satisfied, I press onward into the non-sleep oblivion.
Side note: pornography/self-gratification was never even considered. The last thing I needed to do was get my blood flowing. Hope wasn’t entirely lost.
4. Wikipedia search of the Arkham Knight and Arkham Origin entries of the Batman video game series. And than since I was on the topic, Google image search of The Joker, a Wikipedia search of the Joker and I watched the scene of Batman (1989) where The Joker trashes the museum. Nicholson’s clown is still pretty good. Can’t even remotely rationalize this one.
5. I watched a video of various animals mingling together. Considered sharing it on Facebook and then questioned my sexuality because of said consideration.
6. Finally a sports related topic: Determined the Warriors could definitely win at least 70 games. 60-6 with 16 left. I’m thinking they go undefeated at home the rest of the way. A few tough road games but nothing that Steph can’t handle.
7. The clock is now 545 AM. My alarm is set to go off in an hour. I remember the aforementioned funny line from Elf. I tweet a meme of it, because people will definitely see it at this hour.
So there’s that. Why share this? I have noone to turn to with this complaint. I’ll get lectured by my mom, and my friends offer their support in a time of crisis like so:
The irony is I’m now wasting even more precious sleep time by telling you how I wasted precious sleep time. Find me the business end of shotgun and I’d be tempted to wrap my lips around it. I’m going to the gym now because I’m too prideful to concede defeat.