sleep: the forgotten element?
History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake. ---James Joyce
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"I'm convinced our culture is trying to kill you. Either that, or help you develop a drug habit."
Hmm...
Considering these were the opening words of Dr. J, my history professor, I have to say she immediately received my full attention.
"You're expected to perform 100% at school, 100% at work, 100% in your family unit, and I know you perform 100% in your extra-curricular activities." She shrugged and held out her hands. "How else can you do 400% in all of this and still find time to sleep?"
I immediately resisted the urge, but I've gotta say that I was really tempted to slip my hand high into the air. I glanced to my right at the girl with her head down on the desk, eyes closed in quiet slumber.
I thought for sure I knew the answer to her question.
"Okay," Dr. J continued, enthusiasm lacing her voice. "So how many of you are history majors?"
Poor woman. I think she really thought she'd see a show of hands. I was tempted again, as only one lone girl in the back of the class lifted her hand. I think I was reverting back twenty years, to the days when I was almost always the "teacher's pet", the one who could always be counted on to give the right responses at just the right times.
"Does it count if your dad is a history teacher?" I wanted to ask the question, but somehow refrained. "And hey, what if your son is the biggest history buff on the planet?"
I bound and gagged the teacher's pet inside of me. I couldn't help this teacher, not this time. I think maybe the history gene skips a generation. I'll have to look that one up...
Dr. J, a tiny woman in her early sixties, moved through the classrom toward the slide projector in the back. I cast an anxious glance at the girl next to me as Dr. J moved down the aisle beside us. But she was able to sleep on, undisturbed, as the professor launched a slide show of a recent trip to the ancient ruins in Mexico.
"This. is. so. bor-ing." The boy sitting behind me breathed the syllables as though the very effort was taking the last little bit of strength he had left.
I have to say I wasn't so surprised when, just a few minutes later, I heard the sound of gentle snoring and realized that he, too, had figured out how to squeeze sleep into his very busy schedule.
Saving Grace
For Such a Time as This
Waking Emma
These Things We Hold
This is TOO funny! You are having way too much fun, now. Love it!!!!
Posted by: Rochelle | September 13, 2006 at 06:28 AM