WWBD Week 2: Sleep, Don't Snooze

I've been thinking about how little-me used to wake up at 5:30 on the weekends to watching cartoons without an alarm. But then again, little-me used to go to bed at 9. But then again, little me didn't have homework, tests, lab reports, and work like college-me does. But then again, college-me wastes a lot of potential sleep time on the Skype and Youtube. This week, my challenge is to head off to bed 1:30 or earlier on weekdays and before 2:30 on weekends. Eventually, I'm going to try to whittle it down to 12:30 in the coming weeks, but hey, baby steps.

In retrospect this week should have been switched with last week. Excited-me didn't really think through the whole getting up early and going to the gym business. Excited-me went ahead and promised to get up early to run, while simultaneously creating tired-me by staying up until 3am for no reason. So a quick confession: I kind of sorta didn't really get to my goals last week. Oops. The whole morning thing didn't work out, and I ended up just blatantly ignoring all my alarms (does it count that I actually didn't press the snooze button, but just let them run until they turned themselves off? Mm. I thought not). Needless to say, my Tues/Thurs gym trips didn't work out, but at least I went on a Fri/Sat/Sun-gym-binge to make up for it? Oh, and I also got up at 7 this morning to run today. Yay for me.

P.S. When I originally wrote this post, I used the term "big-me." But then I changed it to college-me. I don't really want to be big-me yet.

WWBD Week 1: No More Snooze/Exercise

I'm tackling two things on my to do list this week mainly because they go hand in hand. I have a nice chunk of time on Tuesday and Thursday mornings for me to go to the gym before my 10:30 class. I tried to do this last semester, but I always ended up just waking up to my early alarm and immediately slamming the snooze button thinking, "Man, I'm tired. If I go and work out at the gym, I'll be even more tired. I'll just go later," except, of course, later never actually exists.

I've also always been very annoyed at my own snooze button habit. I'll set my alarm for… let's say, 8:00 and will keep pressing that dang 10 min-of-more-fitful-sleep-button until it's 8:50, and I'm running out the door in mismatched socks, unbrushed hair, and barely making it to my chemistry class.

So the rules for me this week are:

No snooze button. Ever. Not in the mornings, and not for any power naps I may or may not take. I am also not allowed to set the alarm later than normal to try to compensate.

Go to the gym on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings. "Morning" will be defined as "before noon."

Ready.Set.Go.

Dedication

A love 20+ inches of snow decided to give New Haven, CT a visit on Wednesday.

My chemistry professor decided to spend Tuesday night on an air mattress in his office (which he purchased for the occasion), lest he miss class on Wednesday morning.

Can't help but admire the dedication.

What Would Ben Do?

I don't remember most things I'm forced to read for English class. But one little passage that I read during sophomore year somehow found itself a nice little nook in my brain, and I can't get it leave, nor do I want it to.

The passage had something to do with Benjamin Franklin and the founding fathers of the United States, but all I remember is the concept of Ben's 13 virtues. Ben decided that there were 13 different qualities that a "perfect man" should possess. He kept these virtues written in his journal and measured his own performance in comparison to these virtues on a daily basis. He would pick a virtue and work solely on that virtue for a week or more.

I'm strangely compelled and inspired by this concept. I remember thinking the first time that I read this, "Oh man, I could totally write down all the things that I think would make me a good person. And oh man, one a week doesn't sound too bad. I could do one every two weeks even, just to make sure I have it down pat. Man. Becoming a perfect person sounds.... easy."

I never pursued the idea further, until now.

It's cliche, but the coming of a new year is always a great time to find some motivation that gets wedged between trying to get enough sleep and cram-writing papers during the fall semester. The new year also happily coincides with the start of spring term, which is always a popular time for students to resolve to "get their act together."

I have a very impressive resolutions list this year. A very, very impressive list. But then again, I have a very, very impressive list every year. The difference this time is that I have a partner who on her own has independently composed an impressive list of her own. A very, very impressive one.

In the name of Benjamin Franklin (and his blessings, hopefully), we have decided to pursue a "virtue" of our own each week this year. Our goals this year range from the scholarly to the spiritual. But, the our ultimate goal is to pursue and cultivate a habit each week that will get us one step closer to the people we want to be. Some of our weekly habits will be mundane and simple like "don't press the snooze button." Some will be more ambitious such as "finish that novel that I've been meaning to read since 9th grade."

I'm just super excited to see what kind of students and people we'll be by the end of the year.

Hiatus

I could write a long, involved dissertation here on how I've been so terribly busy in the past months, how so many other things have demanded my attention, yabba, yabba, yabba. While most of that would probably be true, it would also be a complete cop out, so I'll just admit that I'm just a sucky blogger. I'm as far as the blogging world is concerned, that 'friend' who calls you when they're sad/drunk/in need your chemistry homework. Sorry 'bout that (to the two whole people that makes up my readership-- thank you, supportive parents).

So I promise I'll be better.

Who am I kidding? I'll probably post this same example entry in another few months (I hear Barney Stinson off in the distance yelling, "Challenge accepted).

Actually, I've posted this same exact post in all my other failed blogs. I won't mention them here because it's pretty freaking embarrassing. You can go found them yourselves (by which I mean, hi mom, hi dad).

Paradigm Shift

(Susie gets into car)

C: Sorry the backseat's so messy. I had to take my parents to work, and they sometimes make a mess. And I had to bring my dog, too.

Me: . . .

L: Why'd you have to take them to work?

C: Because they can't be left alone.

S: Why can't they be left alone?

LC: Oh, when you leave them alone, they start screaming.

Me: . . .

C: Yeah, they can't be left alone. They seriously just start screaming.

Me: . . .

C: But yeah, sorry the car's really messy. Sometimes he just chews stuff up and spits it back out. Look at that crap on the floor.

Me: . . .

C: (something about birds)

Me: hahahahahahahaha.

C: . . .

S: . . .

L: . . .

Me: hahahahahahahaha.

Re-read the conversation after replacing "parent" with "parrot."

COCKROACH

AUGH.

Now, I'm not normally an advocate of capital-letter-speak. However, desperate times call for equally hysterical forms of expression. I have spent the past hour of my life trapping a GIANT COCKROACH and recuperating from the experience.

So, I get home from watching Despicable Me at the theater (a surprisingly pleasant movie, by the way) to find a GIANT COCKROACH in the doorway to my bathroom. I initially mistook it for a blob of hair in the dim lighting only to find out I was reaching out for a DEMON ON SIX LEGS.

I immediately telephoned a friend of mine and began screaming into the phone about the GIANT COCKROACH now in my apartment. After listening to my panicked blabber for a good minute, she calmly told me to squash it with a shoe. At this point, I calmed down a bit and told her yes, I would kill it with a shoe, and yes it will all be fine.

As soon as I hung up the phone, I began to approach the GIANT COCKROACH holding a pair of orange Converse when the little bugger TWITCHED. This of course triggered yet another panic attack which led to me calling my parents. They patiently listened to me cry/shout/bellow (yes, there were tears) incoherently into phone for 30 minutes while I attempted to cover the cockroach with a small Styrofoam bowl.

I finally managed to trap the SOB under not one, but two foam bowls and topped it off with a box of sidewalk chalk to make sure it really couldn't escape. Which lead to me pacing around the apartment trying to calm myself down and sitting down to write this entry.

My heartbeat is still slightly elevated, and as seen in my out of character use of capitalized words, I'm still a tad unnerved. I keep thinking the various spots on the floor in the peripheral vision are more GIANT COCKROACHES. I opened my closet expecting a whole army of them to come swarming out. I have made cockroach spray the number one priority on my shopping list.

Dear god, nothing like a COCKROACH ATTACK to remind me that I'm still 6 years old.