I don't intend to sleep when I'm dead, either

by Sonnet Graham

Tuesday October 11, 2005

Oh, sleep.

The little wonder that I have missed so much as of late. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that a young adult is supposed to receive approximately nine hours of sleep a night. I say "pretty sure" because I’m way too tired to google that fact.

Adults, those motherfuckers, only need eight hours a night. Why? What’s the magical difference between 20 and 21 that allows you to get drunk off your ass, sleep less and still be considered a mature and responsible citizen?

Um, not that I actually get eight hours of sleep per night, let alone nine. Does anyone on this campus? According to the Dec. 20, 2004 issue of TIME, that’s not really as big of a problem as your mother would like you to believe. In fact, research suggests that rapid eye movement (REM) isn’t even necessary to be fully rested and functional.

I like the idea of five hour nights and no REM being healthy, mainly because it makes my daily four hour rest period sound so much more refreshing. A four hour nap? Gigantic! By that logic, I shouldn’t even worry about the occasional all-nighter.

Speaking of all-nighters, don’t you hate how far they’ve come? In high school, profs actually felt guilty when they assigned enough work to bring down a raging bull elephant. Now, they’re all like, "Whoa, don’t give me that shit. I went to HARVARD, bitches! You think we slept there?!" I, for one, think that they did. I mean, it’s not as though they had any good rush parties to attend.

Another painful aspect of sleep deprivation is the necessary interaction with those who are more chipper than one’s self. You know who I mean. The one who says, "I haven’t slept in days!" as though announcing "I just won the Nobel Peace Prize!" Yeah. Big. Fucking. Deal.

Anyone who has enough energy to warrant exclamation points has slept way too much in the past 24 hours.
Then, of course, the horrible truth will always come out: "I’ve only gotten two hours a night!" or "I kept tossing and turning." In both of these cases, said friend is in bed, happily cushioned between sheets.

Meanwhile you, the unfortunate slob, sit drooling in front of a computer screen for twelve hours…or sobbing quietly in Tweed Publication Space after your Editor in Chief pulled another article out of Op/Ed. Ahem. Either way, after 72 hours of wakefulness, no one is capable of formulating coherent sentences, let alone bragging at parties about their lack of sleep.

So, the point is…my point…sigh. Okay, I really don’t have a point. In lieu of actual journalistic credibility, I’ll spew out a recommendation or two. First, your brain on drugs functions just like your brain not on sleep (it’s true); however, your brain not on sleep tends to be a lot bitchier, and though your friends will forgive you for stupid shit you do drunk, they have a greater tendency to remind you about the stupid shit you did while deprived of sleep. Really. I speak from experience.

Also, if you plan on pulling consecutive all-nighters, shower. It helps.

Finally, just bear in mind that chances are if you’ve been up for 48 hours, your EIC probably has too. And she probably won’t think it’s very funny that you decided to fill the empty space in Op/Ed with self-indulgent dribble. Especially when she sees it at 7:30 am, a half hour before the paper goes to bed.

Next time, just stick with a photo montage. Trust me.