Weather.com says it’s going to be a little groggier out today than we’re now used to. Indeed, the moody climate enjoys playing tricks on us Bostonians. On top of that, I’m suffering through the repercussions of pulling one too many all-nighters this past week, so the clustering clouds mauling my weekend’s pristinely blue sky are looking particularly melancholy, and I’d really like to just go back to bed.
As fun in the sun appeared a more promising pastime than reading Virgil, I decided I was justified in putting aside the inexorable demands of my classes to partake in the past few days’ 70-degree weather and finally learn how to throw a Frisbee. But my rejoicing posed some problems as the week progressed: I realized I’d accomplished next to nothing aside from discovering that Jamba Juice tastes better on the Boston University Beach and that the sound of the cars on Storrow Drive in no way compares to that of Santa Monica’s waves.
But while the snow had stopped, the storm cloud of essays due always loomed in the distance. I was forced to remain awake long after the sun had decided it was time to sleep. My nighttime rest waned and as an inevitable result, I continued to spend my days napping under the sunbeams, and the week became a vicious cycle of nocturnal living from which I am just now endeavoring to recover.
I’ve pulled my fair share of collegiate all-nighters while bathing in Ben and Jerry’s Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz. So thank you, City Convenience, for staying open until 3 a.m.. Boston sunrises are no stranger to me. Still, staying up for them is not a habit I wish to pursue.
With the coup d’état of today’s forecasted rain over this weekend’s endless sunny rays, my spirits are no longer motivated to break the somnambulate cycle. I’d like to sleep away the remaining five weeks of school awaiting the promise of summertime’s arrival.
You’d think that by now I’d have taken to heart the importance of discipline, what with my science midterm catastrophe. Staying up all night to finish what I refuse to study during the day only causes me to sleep more during the afternoon hours, and given my syllabi for the next six weeks, I sorrowfully believe it is time to forget about my recent sunscreen purchase and lock myself with my 10 art history research books in Mugar.
Back in the day, staying awake past midnight was a luxury not often allowed &- elementary school sleepovers were most exciting times with their allowance of late-night movies and games of truth or dare.
Yet, I wonder to myself why I ever considered it enjoyable to spend an entire night awake. I used to attend all-night pool parties for which I abandoned my warm and cozy bed for blow-up flotilla, Frisbee, cold water and cold pizza. I should have been storing as much sleep as possible to make up for my lack thereof in college.
I must say, though, that staying up late did make me more efficient. The wee hours of the morning offer nothing worth procrastination; ergo, they force me to finish final sentences or memorize any remaining French conjugations. The week goes by more quickly when I sleep the days away, too. Perhaps I should pull all-nighters more often and I would, for once, get things done in a quick manner.
I sometimes think how much more wonderful life could be if mammals no longer required a recharge of internal batteries. I’m sure that one day it will happen, assuming evolution prevails: Sleepless students like myself will eventually pass on genes designed to forgo sleep in order to get more out of life. Really, imagine all the things we could continue to get done if only we didn’t have to stop for eight hours of rest. Sleep requires too much time management of which I am clearly not a fan.
Every time I walk dazedly down the hall of the 12th floor of Warren Towers, crawl into my mattress pad-layered dorm room bed and let the hum of the Green Line hypnotize my senses, I wonder why I would ever want to do anything other than close my eyes and give in to the beauty beheld in shut-eye serenity. Surrender sleep to study the subjunctive? Oh, the things we do for success.
“Through greater effort and hard work a precious dream comes true,” a Panda Express fortune cookie recently told me. But I don’t think the “sleeping is for pansies” mantra is for me, even if the end in sight is only a month away.
This is an account occasionally used by the Daily Free Press editors to post archived posts from previous iterations of the site or otherwise for special circumstance publications. See authorship info on the byline at the top of the page.
