It’s the first time in a long time I woke up at 6:30 in the morning and felt alive. Not alive like I’m going to save the world and cure aids. I have to take care of myself first. For the past year, the routine has been to sleep at 4am and wake up at 6:30am, with power naps scattered in between the day.
Today, I woke up at 6:30, without an alarm, after going to sleep at 4—4pm. I slept 14 hours which is highly unusual. If I slept more than 6 hours, you might as well have pronounced me dead. But this was a complete different story.
Yesterday, the peak of mental instability and mental exhaustion hit hard—it hits hards when it begins to affect our bodies in ways we could no longer control or even predict.
During our final presentations yesterday, after slaving months of work and managing the load of other projects we have going on, our bodies departed our minds. A close friend of mine passed out during his group’s presentation. He murmured something, hit the ground and instantly regained consciousness. He’s alright, but the big deal is that it happened.
While all this is happening, I woke up disoriented, standing in the front of the class where all the commotion was; I looked down and saw Becca pillowing his head.
I’ve been in zombie mode countlessly this past year, but I was able to manage it—not yesterday. I was in and out (mostly out) yesterday. He’s had moments where he felt he was about to pass out and yesterday he finally did. Thankfully he didn’t hit his head on the counter and thank you for Beckie H.’s foot for breaking his head’s fall from the ground.
Anyhow, today was a fresh breath of air from scuba diving without an oxygen tank. It’s the exact remedy I need to finish off the rest of the semester. Yesterday concluded one project—the big one. Now, I have to finish off strong with all the other projects.