Once again I've resorted to a can of Mountain Dew for a caffeinated jump-start to my morning.
My alarm clock and my watch failed this morning in their combined efforts to confuse me again, which means that I didn't get up on time and was once again late to work. Back to my usual routine, that is. I was awake enough to be able to tell the time, but beyond that I had a very hard time getting my bearings once I was out of bed. I kept stumbling in the shower.
Despite my lateness, I resolved to take my time getting ready to leave for work. I rushed through everything yesterday, thinking I was running late when really I wasn't, and I ended up forgetting several things. Being late for work isn't that big of a deal--it just makes me feel like a moron. Luckily, right now I don't have any work anyway, so it isn't as though I was missing anything.
At any rate, while shaving and brushing my teeth this morning, I happened to actually look at myself in the mirror. This is something of a rare occurrence, as I generally don't care a whole lot about my appearance and thus don't spend much time in front of the mirror. I use it, of course, but sparingly. Today, though, I happened to catch a glimpse of my eyes, and I wasn't crazy about what I saw. They were red, and generally looked tired and weak.
I know I don't get enough sleep, and this is becoming more and more evident lately. It tends to go in cycles, really, and right now it's clear that I need to force myself into the part of the cycle where I get more sleep. Often I find myself awake past 2:00 a.m., which then makes it difficult for me to drag myself out of bed around 7:00-ish. I can operate with that little sleep, obviously, but it takes a toll after a while.
To that end, I'm resolving to start next week in getting myself to bed earlier. To keep it realistic, I'll say I need to be in bed by 1:00 a.m., which will hopefully result in my ability to get out of bed by 7:00 a.m. at the latest. Six hours of sleep per night is good for me through the week. I can work with that. Catching up on weekends is a very good thing.
That rule will be in force only until I get to a point where I don't feel like I'm going to die every morning. I'm not much into rules, particularly bedtimes. It makes me feel either very young or very old, neither of which I care for very much.
To help myself get up on time on a consistent basis...as much as I hate to do it, I think I'm going to have to put my alarm clock across the room so that I have to physically get out of bed in order to turn it off. This is what gets me out of bed on time when I stay with Brandi. I hate it, but nothing else seems to work.
I hate being on a consistent schedule. Hate it.