The beginning of any day has presented a creative brand of hell for people like me. Whether I have to wake up for work, school, or any other energy-draining activity, I’ve yet to find the fun in getting out of bed.
Maybe my bed’s too comfy, or maybe someone snuck one of those Memory Foam mattresses on top of my regular mattress, complete with my perfect sleep number. I don’t know how one would acquire that information, as I’ve never been tested for it, but to whichever lifelong enemy of mine has decided to do this: I’m impressed by the lengths you’ve taken in the dynamic world of oppressing others.
Nevertheless, this wouldn’t be a problem if falling asleep were as easy as staying asleep.
Every night I find myself confronting the same, age old dilemma—Do I gulp two Nyquil capsules with a healthy dose of water, or finish the playoff mode I started in my outdated NHL 14 GM mode? I pretty much always go with the latter, and I gotta say, it never ends well.
But maybe there’s hope for people like me. Perhaps a morning will come where the mere choice to exist isn’t a constant source of regret as I enter the shower and thaw into another dreary day. I recently watched Sense 8, Netflix’s supposed answer to Game of Thrones, and in one scene a surprisingly worldly corner store clerk provides some sagely advice: “Drugs are like shoes. Everyone needs them, but they don’t always fit.”
Now, I’m not suggesting that a good night’s rest is only attainable with the right choice of pharmaceuticals or hash from your friendly neighbourhood drug pusher. I’ve heard that meditation and yoga can sooth the soul into a relaxed lull, but the ability to grasp that state of inner peace—that orgasmic zen—has always escaped me.
Instead, I’ve turned to ASMR, which stands for Audio Sensory Meridian Response—probably. Hit up Youtube and type in “GentleWhispering.” With over 130 million views, Maria (the channel’s host) is the Justin Bieber of the insomnia-ridden world. She’s as fun to listen to as she is to look at, and the only drawback is that she needs to use a screen to transmit her relaxing message.
These square contraptions seem to be everywhere nowadays, and it’s become abundantly clear that humanity is being invaded by everything LCD. For the sake of this argument, I’ll only complain about how screens play into my relationship with insomnia and the patron devil of mornings. Because, no matter how hard I try, no matter how low I set the brightness on my laptop, no matter how far away I rest my phone (AKA alarm clock) from my head, they invade my psyche and force me to STAY ALERT.
This, more than any other reason, is why my Circadian rhythm says “Gray, here’s the plan. Let’s chill until, say, four AM. Then, let’s expect to be well rested enough to rise at ten, then realize that’s impossible and get up just past noon. Repeat until insanity kicks in. Don’t forget to rinse.”
I used to have a roommate that could (and still can, the bastard) fall asleep before his head hit the pillow—an ability that begs for some concussion-fuelled consequences. Despite my obvious advantage in head to pillow accuracy, I would gladly trade my tried-and-tested system of subconsciously cycling through hypothetical events that will probably never happen (like attending a two-person pool party with Emma Stone) until I trick myself into passing out.
All I know is: whoever invented mornings definitely did so out of revenge. I’m not sure why I was targeted (maybe I was tight with the person that dumped said inventor) but I’m confident there was a paperwork error.
(Submit equally witty and thought-provoking sign off here)