A Very Lucky Girl

I factor in naps at every opportunity. Done with class for the day? Naptime. Just finished dinner? Naptime. Stressed out? Naptime. I don't know what is so satisfying about snippets of sleep during the day. Maybe it's the rush of doing nothing while the world keeps going on around you. Whatever it is, I'm addicted. I was asked at CRU what national holiday I would add to the already full repertoire. Without missing a beat, I blurted out "National Nap Day!" Obviously. Taylor had the next best thing, Second Christmas. Squeeze that bad boy in between July 4th and Flag Day and everybody wins. You'd never have to wait 365 days for Christmas again! What a concept. Anyway, back to naps. I probably use them most as an escape mechanism. Forget vats of alcohol or scores of heroin. Give me a good nap, where homework assignments cease to exist, phone notifications go unnoticed, and all that remains are my covers, my blanket , and me. Anxiety escapes me during REM cycles...

On my bed you can find several practical blankets, 3 pillows (one for sleeping on, the others as barriers to any monsters lurking in the closet), aaaaand one, rather old, childhood "blankie". Yep, I've slept with my baby blanket for 20 years and counting. I feel like the fact that it isn't a stuffed animal makes it almost acceptable. It's just something to keep me warm! If you ignore the fact that it would only cover my torso if I used it as it was intended...  Instead I ball it up and hold it close to me as I sleep.  I'm not entirely positive on why I have this attachment to a childhood relic. But it's been a constant through all 5 states, changing relationships, crying jags, bookworm nights, poor-decision hangovers, and Addison's-induced puking (it has been washed I swear!). It's like having a non-interactive pet/baby that requires zero responsibility from me.  I don't know when I'm going to evict my cuddle buddy from the typical s...

I have not been in the mood for immature shenanigans this week. I think lack of sleep is catching up with me and breeding irritability. Unfortunately, the kids are up and at 'em within minutes of my arrival at 7:45 AM every morning. I creep into the house and shut the front door as quickly as possible, removing my shoes, and whispering to talk to their mother, hoping to catch a few more childless seconds. Twice this week she assured me that they had stayed up late and would more than likely sleep in. Both times one or the other kid woke up within 3 minutes of being issued this statement.  On one of these mornings Brother quickly realized that I wasn't going to be engaging in any sort of activity before 9 AM (I cuddle up on their giant bean bag as soon as I arrive and definitely plan on investing in something of the sort when I move out of the dorms) and resigned himself to some Wii time. He tried to play a Hot Wheels racing game and the disc wouldn't read. He brought it ...

New York City turned me into the Taylor that never sleeps. And the Taylor that never sleeps is not a pleasant person to be around (Megan and Hannah are angels for putting up with me). I probably got a grand total of 12 hours of sleep from Wednesday night to Saturday morning. When we boarded the plane from Newark to O'hare Saturday morning at 6:45 AM I vaguely remember taking off, jabbing that seat-back button as soon as I was allowed to do so, and drifting off until I was jarred awake by our landing in Chicago. It was a much needed nap, since I was getting to that point of dizziness in my lack of sleep and I needed to be a alert to navigate the three hour layover at O'hare. Believe me, I had an unbelievable time. New York is a true treasure. But it's a treasure that comes at a cost of high stress and exertion. Walking all day long (if I hadn't counteracted all that exercise with endless slices of pizza I could likely fit into my old jeans by now--but I'm not worri...

This title accurately describes my attendance style, whether it be for class, an appointment, or just a deadline I've set for myself, except when it comes to falling asleep. That's when I'm later then I should be. It's just that I don't want to miss anything! I'm sure that most things exciting (and all things mischievous) occur after 11 on a college campus. I live in fear of drifting off before midnight, only to be regaled the next morning with tales of all that I missed. Or in fear of drifting off and sleeping through all of my alarms. This is my biggest fear (and it has come to life several times) and it is the worst feeling in the world to wake up, groggy and disoriented, only to realize that Taylor Swift has been tirelessly singing "Enchanted" for the past hour and a half and that I am on my way to sleeping through my second class of the day.  For this reason I set multiple alarms, no matter the importance of the appointment. The problem is, ...