6:30 on a Saturday morning is one of those things.
I had a completely DIFFERENT post that I was supposed to be working on during this desk shift. That was BEFORE my alarm went off at 6:30 on this fine Saturday morning. Now I’m going to tangent on how college students-when I say ‘college students’ I mean actually IN college not just college age-are inherently allergic to 6:30 in the morning on any given day but ESPECIALLY Saturday.
First off, do any of you know what any time before 10 o’clock feels like? Let me tell you, it’s like having ice cold water thrown on you several times. Yes, I said several and if you don’t fancy the word several then it’s like having ice cold water thrown on you multiple times, or at least 3. The first time is when the alarm goes off, or actually the second time because you never truly wake up the first time your alarm goes off. The first round of alarm music, which for me is currently the chorus from ‘Long Island Degrees’ by De La Soul, sounds a little like a fantasy, meaning that it kinda seeps into your dreams slowly. You only THINK you hear the music and ‘subconscious you’ begins to wonder why there is music playing all of sudden. Now I don’t know how your subconscious reacts to this sudden intrusion of the musical persuasion…it may begin a happy jig or maybe ‘dream-you’ starts a chorus line or maybe it just stands there in shock and confusion-that’s what mine used to do, stand in complete befuddlement of why there was random music in the middle of my wonderful dreamland. Note I said that’s what ‘dream-Bri’ used to do, now subconscious me freaks the hell out when she hears the music because she knows just what it means…it means it’s about time for you to wake the hell up. The second splash is when you realize that your gorgeous dream house and dream husband and enchanted dream land made of money, gold, and ‘cookies and cream’ ice cream was all FAKE. This splash might be the harshest because you literally just had all your dreams ripped away from you like a half-eaten cake ripped from the hands of an obese five-year old. I have extremely vivid dreams so this splash always catches me by surprise. [PS: if you don’t have dreams consisting of lands made of ‘cookies and cream’ then substitute your respectable fantasy land, and if you don’t have dreams well….that’s one less giant splash of 20 degree water that you have to worry about.] The third splash comes when you hit the off button on your alarm-or phone in my case- and you look at the time and you realize that it is six-thirty in the flipping morning and that it is indeed Saturday. “Yes”, your three-fourths still sleep consciousness tells you,”it’s six-thirty on a frigging Saturday. Yep, I said it, a frigging SATURDAY!!! Not a Monday, not a Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, not even Sunday when you’re supposed to be up early so you can go party with Jesus…nope its SATURDAY. How you like them cookies??!!!” [side note: yes my conscious/sub-conscious talks smack to me.]
And the fourth splash comes when you drag yourself out of your warm, “perfectly suited to your body temperature” bed and your feet touch the “not at all suited to your temperature whatsoever” floor and your body gets hit by the “nowhere near the temperature of your safe, awesome bed” air/heat coming out of your centralized air unit. Who enjoys getting hit by ice cold water? Absolutely no one, except polar bears, they quite enjoy the frigid graces of freezing water. But then again, they can’t feel it because they are all insulated and such by their large amounts of body fat..That being said, of course, as a college student who does not enjoy being hit by ice cold water multiple times, 6:30 on a Saturday morning is just WRONG and EVIL and therefore I am allergic to it.
Another thing, it is cold at 6:30 in the morning. Now, I love winter and the cold and the awesome nippy goodness, but six-thirty in the morning is a completely different type of cold. It’s a taunting, menacing type of cold. Almost like it knows that at 6:30 on a Saturday morning when I’m on my way to work the desk I’m going to be dressed like a hobo and therefore inadequately dressed for the frigid temperature. My hobo attire consists of PINK sweatpants-the thin ones not the awesomely thick insulated ones, the t-shirt I slept in, and a large jacket from my trasitional high school I attended right after Hurricane Katrina. Oh and let’s not forget my slippers. So basically a prime victim for the attack of the vicious 6:30 cold.
After you get over the cold and being metaphorically hit by at least three splashes of cold water, you come to the realization that you are probably the only human being awake at 6:30 in the morning. Or at least the only college student up at 6:30 and why ever would you think that? Probably because you’ve seen no other person since you’ve been up…which in my case has been for about 2 hours. Yes, I know that there are other people up right now, who are actually being productive and doing other things than whining about how early it is. You know what we call those people? PARENTS. Seeing as how I am in no way, shape, or form anyone’s parent-by that I mean I have bared no children nor have I adopted any- I reserve the right to whine and throw hissies about how early waking up at 6:30 on Saturday, October 16th in the year of our Lord 2010, is.
Lastly, everyone knows college students do not even think about resting their little genius minds until after midnight. So let’s do the math, if I go to sleep around my average time of one in the morning and have to wake up at 6:30 A.M. that means I only get about 5 and a half hours of sleep. That is nonsense! Especially for a Saturday morning. Non-Parent law states “anyone who has not given birth nor assumed legal custody of any minor shall receive at least, and not a second less than, 8 hours of sleep on a Saturday morning.” According to this ‘completely real and not at all made up by me’ statute I am still owed two and a half hours of sleep. I, and every other college student who is up at a desk right now, demand my hours! Give me sleep or give me death. Actually don’t give me death, I’d rather be sleepy than you know, dead. That would be quite unfortunate for I would no longer be able to blog and whine about early Saturday mornings.
So there you have it. Why 6:30 on a Saturday morning is against the internal workings of a college student..take this knowledge and share it with whoever or whatever made you get up at 6:30 this fine Saturday morning. Show them the error of their ways. And when they have seen the light let me know. Then again if they see no light at all and they laugh at you, do not blame me or my blog because at the end of the day I’ll still have my desk job.
Peace and Love.
Here’s a bit of awesome to soothe your tired and weary, woke-up-at-six-thirty soul.