I am a very deep sleeper. Once I am out, there isn’t much in this world that will wake me. Storms, parties, snoring (lucky for all those boyfriends present and past). It is a fear of mine that Ed Mundy will somehow find his way into my apartment and murder me in my sleep. Silver lining of that scenario*: I’ll never know since there isn’t much, aside from a bomb (not sure as this one is currently untested), that will rouse me from my slumber.
*uhhh, is there ever a silver lining to a homicide?
Hodge suggested that I try a sleep cycle alarm clock, and wouldn’t you know…there’s an app for that.
I downloaded it last night onto my iPhone and slept with it under my pillow, in spite of the warnings to not do that….but, I remain a rebel at heart and rules be damned – take that phone, you're not the boss of me! The idea behind the clock is that it monitors your sleep by movement, since we all (that is, you and I, internet) move differently at different phases of sleep, and purports to wake you up when you’re the least asleep so you’ll be more refreshed. Sounds good right?
I still woke up like a bag of ass this morning. It was rough and much the same as most mornings. Punishment for having slept on the phone despite manufacturers warnings?
No, this is the reason:
I have two issues with this situation:
1. That I was, in essence, in a coma for most of the night.
2. That this app provides daily (ahem, nightly) statistics so you can monitor your sleep. This in itself is not a problem, because I’m sure the designers of this wanted to prove that we were getting our $0.99 worth from the alarm clock, and super geeks can totally compare and contrast each others sleep patterns in the night**. The problem that I have, and I realise that this is specific to me and me alone, is that it’s so disheartening to know that I will wake up groggy for the rest of my working days.
**Dating compatibility by sleep cycles?? Next new thing? Yes? No?
And yet another that offends:
I did a career ‘test’ a couple of days ago and it’s still irritating me. My results were that I was an organiser and that my ideal profession was being an administrator/accountant/boring. Whaaat?
When I was in junior high school, my classmates and I all had to take one of these tests and it was meant to give you an idea of what you were meant to studying toward. It was pretty exciting, mainly because we were excused from an afternoon of regular classes and anything that I got out of regular classes for seemed illicit and exciting and dangerous.
That was true right up to the moment I got the results back… Holy mother of Sean! My would-be professional goal in life, my ideal career, the job that would make me the happiest: Director of a summer bible camp. Seriously. I couldn’t make that up, my imagination stretches only so far.
There were many things inherently wrong with this career path, the most obvious being that I did not attend any church, and I was moderately aware that I was well on my way to being a slightly agnostic, mostly atheistic person that is highly critical of any organised religion.
The second being that I was never baptised into any faith, because my mother had a fight with the pastor/minster/whoever was in charge of doling out G-D and walked out, tiny me in arms, before I could be baptised and surely no bible camp worth it’s salt would let someone doomed to purgatory*** run a bible camp.
There are many more reasons, that in the name of tact, I have decided to omit from this pious b-log.
The point, which has gotten away from me, is that these career tests can be so limiting. I’m still faced with the same dilemma at 29 as I was at 13: I don’t know what to do with my life. Or rather, I haven’t been able to find a job that will pay me to sleep, read and eat yet, but I’m looking. I’m in love with possibilities and think that most things (astrophysics, neurosurgery and dentistry excluded) can be attempted and attained by anyone, should they desire only to try.
***Though I am confident now that there have been reservations made in my name in all the circles of hell. It’s how I roll.
-Bedfordshire bound Anna
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