I woke up and stuck two pieces of honey-nut, whole grain bread into a toaster. As I periodically kept pushing the leaver on the toaster up to make sure that its crappy six year old technology didn't burn my toast, I pulled up a seat, grabbed my nicely browned bread, and ate breakfast (By the way, has anyone ever tried toast with peanut butter mixed with honey and cinnamon? It's quite delicious -- But that's beside the point.) I looked at the clock; it was seven in the morning.
It was my second official day of summer; why was I up so early? I should have at least slept in till ten or eleven, but I suppose that’s the beauty of summer; the laid back mornings of waking up regardless of the time, and feeling reassured because the next morning you can wake up with ease without the irritating forehead wrinkling screech of an alarm.
Anyways, I feel there was a reason for my unusual early waking. The night before I only had three hours of sleep plus the thirty to forty minute nap I took during a viewing of Alice in Wonderland in my friend's living room. Due to lack of sleep, I ended up crashing and burning on my couch while watching an episode of Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel at around five in the afternoon. All I remember is curling into a ball, facing the back of my sticky leather couch and blanking out. Sometime later, when the sun was down, I woke up lying down on the guest room bed with a black fitted sheet on top of me. I was wide awake, and I had a strange curiosity of how I ended up there. Nonetheless, I got up to go to the bathroom and proceeded to the kitchen where I tried to get ice from the fridge without unnecessarily waking anyone. I looked at the clock; it was one in the morning.
Great, eight more hours till the rest of the family wakes up, and I can't fall asleep, I thought. Despite the fact, I returned to the guest room, laid down next to a pile of folded laundry and fell asleep for six more hours, which brought me to where I was this morning -- eating toast. Turns out I received a grand total of sixteen hours of sleep-- double the amount I normally would get.
That's how my morning was, and now I'm sitting on a futon listening to an irritating song by Franz Ferdinand waiting for my laundry to dry. In fact, I actually have to finish packing for a week long trip which will commence tomorrow. If there's anything I dislike to the highest degree, it’s packing. Honestly, if I could, I’d just bring a copious amount of underwear in a Wal-Mart shopping bag with me and all would be well in the world. In any case, my mother would definitely not allow that, and honestly, I'm a hypocrite for pretending that would not also disgust me in some way.
My destination will remain unrevealed until I return. Nevertheless, I'll be taking a lot of pictures and notes for a blog post when I return
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:Julia