It's interesting the effects sleep deprivation can have on a person. There's the occasional head bob and heavy eyelids. Or, as my granddad used to tell me whenever he got sleepy on the road he would put his hand on the roof of the car. That way, if he ever fell asleep his hand would smack him on the head and he would wake up before finding himself upside down in a ditch. Whatever works. Some people reach a state of delirium when they are tired. I remember a time working at a restaurant New Year's Day, when a friend of mine made coffee in the tea urns and I gave myself a hundred dollar tip. Oops. I'm amazed when I think of how little sleep fueled my adolescent rampage through academics and attempted money making. Only a few years later it seems I am more and more tired and running amok less.
However, as of recent, my life has spiraled into twirling cone of fury and to do lists. Eating while driving proves both hazardous and frustrating when a quickly prepared breakfast crumbles, leaving picked out clothes sprinkled. Beginning the day frazzled is not ideal. Running from one activity to another regardless of the event will eventually work down one's defenses. Such is the story of me this weekend. After being up late with annoying teenagers (where do they get their energy, again?), I sought after the sweetest nectar life has to offer me at this point in my mostly boring existence: Coffee. I entered an intricately decorated hospitality room with one cart in my line of vision. It possessed a variety of Styrofoam coffee cups and a magnificent cappuccino machine. Taking a deep breath as I anticipated the first sip, I filled my cup to the brim. French vanilla wafted from the cup in a swirl of sweet steam. I pulled the cup away, excited I was finally able to soothe my noncommittal addiction, when all of a sudden my hands were not following my directions. The precious cup tilted and then fell to the table. My morning luxury flowed over the cart saturating everything in sight with the aroma of coffee beans and french vanilla. Embarrassed by my clumsiness, I quickly apologized and went for the saving grace of paper towels. As others helped correct my blunder, I worked frantically to remove myself from such a wrongly gone expedition. When the sticky brown liquid was cleaned, I once again filled my cup with coffee. Very carefully this time, I took the cup with me in yet another attempt to quench my morning thirst. I walked and joined my group to hear a speaker. While standing and relieved to be with a cup in my hand- my happy place, I enjoyed life. Although I relish the taste and abilities of coffee, unfortunately my tongue cannot handle sudden bursts of hotness. I wait until it is cooled before venturing in. This proved detrimental in my tries of the morning. Without warning, my hands failed me once again. That darling of a cup filled so full with my favorite enjoyment, plummeted to the ground in one slow motion event. My only reaction was to drop my jaw and sigh. This time I was angry. 2 cups of the magic brew wasted! And still, an hour later I had not even tasted any! Too embarrassed to retreat to the hospitality room, I sent someone in my place. And when they returned with another hot cup of coffee, I sat down to drink it.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why we need more sleep.
Tuesday, Tuesday by The Pioneer Woman
1 week ago