Thanksgiving is over and now I’m already back at school. These last two weeks are going to be hell. I have no doubt about that. At least my professors had some mercy and nearly every midterm project that I had that was supposed to be due this Monday got pushed back at least a few days. It’s definitely a bit less stressful to have the extra time to work and get everything much more polished. I won’t be doing much these next weeks other than working but I’m sure I’ll have plenty of late night ramblings to post on here. However, how coherent they will be is up for question.
Anyways, I am glad about one thing at least. Christmas time is here! Like many other people, this is definitely my favorite time of the year. there’s just so much great nostalgia involved with the season and nearly everything going on. In fact, the first thing that I did when I got back to my room was to decorate it. it put lights around the windows and then almost all the way around the top of the ceiling. I still have more stuff to put up even though I’ll only be here for a little over two weeks before heading back home. The common room does look pretty fantastic though.
They’ll be more to write about soon I’m sure.
One of the big problems with normally getting so little sleep is that your body will actually get used to it. You’ll still feel just as tired from getting only a few hours of sleep like you would if you had a normal sleep schedule but now your brain is expecting you to only sleep for a few hours. That means that once you actually get the chance to fall asleep early or at a normal time, you’ll find that you don’t get a full, restful night’s sleep but instead end up waking up at unreasonably early hours of the morning and that it’ll be quite hard to convince your brain to let you fall asleep. This has been one of the two problems I’ve been having now that I’m back home for the Thanksgiving. It seems that my choices are to either stay up late or wake up early. Both of which are shitty.
Now, the other issue that I’ve had involving sleep is with my dreams. I’ll always gone back and forth between either having no dreams at all or having very long, drawn out, dreams that are very vivid. If I was a psychologist or someone who studies dream I could probably tell you why this is but, to be honest, I don’t know and I really don’t care to know. I do know, however, that it’s related, at least partially and for me, to how much sleep I get. Well, now that I’m back home guess who’s been having plenty of weird dreams? That’s right, me. Not all of my dreams are terrible, some can be a lot of fun but they usually tend to swing between fantastically amazing and utterly disturbing.
For example, yesterday I had a dream that would have made a really cool episode of Doctor Who and I was both the star and the spectator at the same time. The plot that I got out of it was that the Doctor did something that made all of Humanity know who he was and then he disappeared but he left his TARDIS around and completely open. After years and years the Doctor is still missing but has become a legend and while people have done research into the TARDIS trying to figure out how it works. They’ve started to make crude representations that can disappear and reappear like the TARDIS but can’t actually manipulate space or time. Then it took a bit of a darker twist. The main character that, who I was in the view point of, ended up getting led somewhere and captured. They had people lined up and were getting injected with some strange drug. Now, I don’t remember exactly what it was but I thought it was a cool idea that they were trying to turn humans into something like Time Lords. Anyways, I escapes and is chased down. Right before I’m caught the actual TARDIS appears behind me and a woman steps out wielding a sonic screwdriver. She takes care of my pursuers and then we rush into the TARDIS. We both refer to the other as “Doctor” thinking that either one is the next regeneration only to realize that we were both only part of the strange drug experiment and that the real Doctor still needs to be found. My dream ended there. I swear I even saw the credits begin to roll before I woke up.
That sounds like fun right? Well, it was but that was definitely one of my better dreams. The more disturbing ones tend to be less fun. Now there’s two main categories here. Ones that play off my fears and one that are just messed up. The ones that play one my fears and anxieties are pretty much what you’d expect. The classic, “you failed all of your exams” or “getting rejected in the worst and most humiliating way possible”. They always make me wake up with a feeling horrible but at least they can be reasoned away after thinking logically about them. The more disturbing dreams, however, are a bit harder to reason away and almost always make me feel sick. I haven’t had them often but when I do they usually stick in me head for far too long. I really don’t feel like writing about them hear and if I told you about them you probably wouldn’t blame me for that choice. What you need to know though is that they’d be disturbing to anyone who’s not a psychopath. These day, I’m always hoping to get one of the fun pleasant dreams if I dream at all but most of the time it’s just a gamble.
- Drunk Texts are almost always a bad decision and if you for some reason thing that they are a good decision then you’re two things: wrong and drunk.
- I am most definitely going to die alone. It’s not like that’s news or anything but it certainly more confirmation and evidence supporting that statement.
- Despite my best efforts and any optimistic but mislead thoughts, I am not good at being social and, in fact, am incredibly socially awkward.
- Taking naps in the late afternoon will only ensure that you stay up way too late into the night.
Now, you might be thinking that there’s a story behind all of this and, well, you’d be right. Though I’d hardly consider it an exciting one by any standards and therefore I’m not going to bore you with the details. In fact, the story is so boring that it could simply be summed up in a rewording of those four points and probably even written in less words. So for now, I’ll keep the mystery alive.
I’m finally back home again for Thanksgiving before heading back into that ultimate hell called Finals Week. It would be nice to have the week off and just relax and de-stress but, unfortunately, the ChemE train never stops running. I’m going to be spending most of this week working on not one, not two, not even three but four finals projects for my classes this semester. There may even be a fifth project to get done if I decide to do the extra credit for one of my courses. The only relaxing part about all of it is getting away from classes, being back home, and getting to sleep in a real bed for the first time in months.
Regardless of how much work I have to do, I am glad to be back home. It’s always nice to see my family, even if it is just me and my parents this year as my sister’s off halfway across the country at college. Besides that I’ve always been a sucker for Christmas time like so many other people and nothing really puts me in the Holiday mood more than being back home.
The first time I rode a roller coaster I was around 10 or 11 years old. I had gone to Cedar Point with my family for the weekend. I grew up in a small town in the Midwest and up until that point I had never been to an amusement park that came anywhere near what Cedar Point was like. My mom made it her mission to have me and sister ride our first roller coaster ever. The first pick was this old, wooden roller coaster called Gemini. We waited in line and finally made our way into the car. We got strapped in and I really took a good look at the roller coaster and that first hill. It looked even bigger from that seat now that there was nowhere for me to go but up. The old tracked clicked and clacked away as we slowly went up higher and higher. My hands gripped onto the bar for dear life. Then, finally, after what felt like a lifetime of anticipation, we dropped down the first hill. I was afraid for less than a second before I began to love every second of that bumpy ride. The rest of the weekend was spent with my family and I trying to ride as many different roller coasters as possible.
Everything was going great until we went on this one ride called Corkscrew. As you might guess, it’s main feature was several upside-down loops ending in a corkscrew before finishing back at the beginning. I went on it once and loved it, of course and as the line was short I decided to go back on for another ride. This time however was different. I pulled down the overhead bar and heard it click one less time than it had before. I let go for a second and it started to rise back up. Before I could say anything, the car started moving up the track. Now, in reality I was probably perfectly safe though I had a little more wiggle room that I might have liked. But, in my 10-year-old mind, there was nothing stopping me from flying out to my doom beyond my death grip on the harness. We went up the hill and unlike all the other times on a roller coaster that weekend, I felt real fear. We dropped down the hill and my knuckles went white. I held onto that harness for dear life and pulled it so tight against my chest that it was hard to breath. My lips were sealed tight and my eyes were wide. We hit the first loop and I felt myself get pulled out a bit from the car so I shoved my feet down on the floor trying to push myself right back against the seat. We hit the second loop and I pushed even harder. Then, we hit the corkscrew and I clenched my eyes closed. If this was the end than I didn’t want to see it. When I opened them again, I was back at the start and harness rose up off of me for real this time.
I stepped out the cart and breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t died by getting flung out of the roller coaster. Of course, I tried to tell my parents what had happened but they laughed it off as I would have too if I heard my 10-year-old self. Needless to say, I did not have any interest in riding that roller coaster again. Ever. I was just glad to walk away with my life. And then I never rode a roller coaster ever again. That is, until I saw one ten minutes later that looked awesome.
Daily Prompt: Safety First