It all started Monday actually and the reverberations are still continuing at the other end of the week. I attempted to set right my body clock after the weekend by going to bed at the all to sensible time of 8 o'clock in the evening. After four hours of sleep, at the stroke of midnight, as the two hands on the clock aligned, I awoke. Unable to return to my slumber I tossed and turned and tried all manner of positions in which to get comfortable and finally woo myself back to sleep but to no avail. So a compromise was struck forth from the two opposing sides of my brain, the sensible and precocious left and the alive and kicking right, two hours of watching something on the internet and then back to sleep for another four hours and then to the gym for half 6. A fair compromise I should say but not one all parties abided to. As the sun rose on the Tuesday I was still awake, lamenting that very fact and saying I must get some, despite how little, sleep. So sleep I did, at half 7, and set my alarm for 8:30, convince myself that it was like a siesta in the middle of the day and I would awake feeling refreshed and ready for the days learning. Unfortunately that day passed me by and Stevie Wonder's wake up warbles were left unheeded. Stevie Wonder Superstition is my alarm tone, just to clarify.
Tuesday day was gone and a similar Tuesday night to the one previous. The saving grace for my academic attendance was that my lessons on a Wednesday didn't start until 3 in the afternoon so with gusto I was there bright eyed and bushy tailed only to be told it was down as a tutorial lesson and unless there were any problems we could leave. Wednesday was done. The only work being a few questions from an electrical assignment which is impending and looming ever closer and a wager placed on the nights games which only served to distract me from my work and deprive me of five pounds. And alas tonight is no different. It seems that both past and present me both have problems sleeping at normal hours but luckily for me, present me not past me, this is a problem for future me and old lefty.
Alive and kicking, the side of me which probably wrote the part about foreign girls in the previous post, the rest of it was possibly a collaboration between the two parties wrestling for supremacy and to get their overall tone felt, is happy to go on writing this despite the occasional yawn and impending doom of the promise of an afternoon playing football and a morning at the gym and doing the electrical assignment in the electrical power class despite the deadline being today. The man is similar to that of the previous Ship Stab man (another time link) despite being Brazilian, short and has hair occasionally resembling that of Ace Ventura when someone messed with the "doo" and the other being from Middlesbrough, skinny and bald. This helps with the getting away with procrastinating but not so much with the learning, maybe the learning will be like osmosis and just pass in from background noise and infrequent glances to the board. Probably not.
So nothing seems to change, the world turns and I sleep during the day. I wish there was more of an open culture with regards to this apart from ASDA being open nothing else really is. I even feel weird being there then, like even they're curious as to why I need a sausage roll at 4 in the morning, it's not like I'm just bored or anything. Despite the internet's vastness it can get old fast. I seem to routinely go on the same websites and seem disappointed that there is nothing new when I cyclically return an hour later. But back to my point why can't there be more things at night, I like the night. A good day you'll talk about for a week, a good night is one you'll keep coming back to. But that more than refers to going out and getting drunk and I was thinking more along the lines of having things open 24 hours a day, just to make my life easier.
Well speaking of drunk why don't I talk about that, who doesn't love a good drunken story with holes in the story because you can't remember and unexplained actions. Yeah on second thoughts why don't I speak on a different subject matter on the slight possibility my thrilling story of why I'm awake didn't leave you running for the hills and but also left you wanting more. I wouldn't go as far as using an emoticon, I'm sure you all picked up on the sarcasm (you all now there's hope for ya). Although lord knows how hard it is to convey tone in text, especially a text. So the subject I shall choose is the fairer sex and those that have my affections. Hopefully I won't sound as much of a douche as I did previously plus it would be nice to see how I've matured.
So women, those scary things which apparently can be manipulated by the touch of some buttons. Personally though I love them, all of them. In comparison to men that is. Well for the obvious reason and also for the fact I seem, in my mind anyway, to talk to them with more gusto and passion. On first contact with a guy the conversation is faltering and idle at best, "How's life?" and "What do you do then?". Hardly Michael Parkinson-esque. I'm not sure if it's the desire to sleep with them or the fact that they're less imposing and therefore feel more friendly is open to debate. Either way, women are my preference and I'm sticking to it. I seem to think a lot about them, not unusual considering I'm young and single. I always find my thought lead to the what could've been rather than the have been. For example, in the library one night sat on a computer next to a girl studying or at least typing up a text about Khrushchev and despite focusing on my work, my mind wandered to asking her about her work and then who knows what (righty at work). But always comes the doubt and the "don't do it" from lefty. It seems on these matters lefty usually wins out in public. So time dwindled on in the library until the girl started packing away, fearing the moment slipping away I felt compelled to say something, so as she turned and put her book in her bag, I blurted out as calmly as I could "Can I ask you a question?" The girl startled by this turns and replies, "Me?" "Yes," I smile mostly with relief that she heard it and also that I managed to pull off an air cool, in spite of the panic filled frenzy within. What followed was a brief conversation on her work and then mine and a little bit on how my handwriting was similar to a friend of hers. And that was it, she left with a smile and I still regale that to myself as a win for the day. So the thing I think I've taken from this is that I should endeavour to talk to more unknown girls because it seems to make my day.
I may once again look back on this writing with an uneasy feel of dread and embarrassment much like when I watch 500 days of summer. And that's a personal joke for future me, sorry for keeping you up all night.
Me then (top) Me now (bottom): Not much changes in a year.
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