I had the most delicious dürüm doner at the train station today.
No matter how much you’d love to hear me talk about the amazing food experiences I have every day (spoiler: I don’t) that isn’t going to happen. I need to rant, talk about topics that have a very limited audience, and completely ignore any and all ideas I get for a decent post because I’m just too lazy to actually write ’em.
And no matter how much I’d love to be able to get up early on a day I don’t really need to, it’s just not going to happen. If given the chance, I’ll usually stay in bed ’til twelve, and occasionally even longer. This inspired a go-to-bed-late schedule, at least during the weekends and on Wednesdays, since I got Thursday off. Sleeping patterns like these often find themselves multiplying and moving onto other days though, so now each and every day is go-to-bed-late day.
When I say late, I don’t mean super duper late or anything (at least, on weekdays), but rather times like midnight or one or two hours later. Nothing extremely, but still ill-advised when you have to get up at six the next day.
But at least I can justify going to bed late on the days before the ones I can sleep in, right? I mean, if I go to bed at two I’ll get ten hours of sleep, and if I go to bed at eleven I’ll get thirteen hours of sleep. That’s what you’d think. But my sleeping in usually consists of me just laying in bed, half-sleeping, which is worth shit in terms of actual rest since you’re either daydreaming or groggily awake.
So there really is no advantage to going to bed early when I’ll be sleeping in anyway. Too bad my parents think differently and scold me over this kind of behavior. I can also see it happen that a few of you will thrown down either parental messages or scientific counter-arguments down in the comments. I’d appreciate that, I think, but then again that wouldn’t change jack about my doubtfully ill-advised sleeping times.
I’d say I’ll go catch some Z’s now, but I’ll be here for a bit longer.