For all of the time I spend in my bed, I don’t get much sleep. Lately I have become partial to all-nighters. There is something about watching the sunrise while doing readings that I find very encouraging. I’m starting to understand why motivational posters are always pictures of sunrises with cheesy catch phrases in front of them. At 6 a.m. on zero hours of sleep, if the words “hang in there” were to appear in the sky I would certainly cry. Potentially out of concern for my mental state, sure, but partially out of inspiration.
My favorite part about pulling all-nighters is making morning people feel inferior. I have always been a late riser. This is something only my parents used to know, but now that I live on a floor surrounded by my peers, I feel a little bit more pressure to not seem like a habitual sluggard. Every time I pull an all-nighter, I delight in seeing the confused faces of the morning people on my floor as they walk down our hall at 7 a.m., only to see me already hard at work. I make an extra effort to change into a new outfit right before they usually get up, so it seems like I started a new day when in actuality I just extended the last one by 12 hours. “Good morning!” I sing, sadistically trying to catch them off guard in their freshly awakened state. Sometimes I’ll throw in a “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” to make them think I’ve already been outside, potentially even exercised. The illusion of productivity is a seductive one to attempt to impress upon your floormates. Really, these people have done absolutely nothing to deserve the vendetta I have against them, and in all honesty the jig is probably up. I become very jumpy after pulling all-nighters, especially when caffeine is in the mix. I think the morning people on my floor can tell I am not awake at 7 a.m. for the same reasons that they are. My sudden jump and darting eyes at the sound of their doors opening probably lead them to believe that I haven’t been awake since 5 a.m. meditating and doing sun salutations. Rather, I have been sitting hunched in front of my computer until the sun salutes me, and earnestly encourages me to “hang in there” (nonverbally for the time being).