It's 8 A.M., and I'm Feeling Fine

I'd like to say it's odd to see how quickly one adjusts to a new schedule. How strange that I've already gotten used to waking up at 8 O'clock each morning, and then rationalize it by suggesting that it's because I've only been "on break" for two weeks.

Instead, I wonder how it's possible to be this groggy and still conscious. How many bleary-eyed face plants I can put into the closed bathroom door before I break. How I ever managed to function like this before. That's right boy's and girls, it's June 22 and I've already had my first round of summer school!

Now, to be fair, this is more or less entirely my fault; I don't need to take a 10:00 Psych 1A class this summer by any means. That's what next semester is there for. Instead, impassioned (is that a word) by my desire to begin learning and some kind of self-destructive, masochistic streak, I chose to begin early, during the summer semester, so I could have all the fun of a semester of psychology squeezed into six teeny tiny weeks (not counting Fridays, of course. Woo three day weekend!). And it hasn't been all bad; even though most of the stuff I've learned so far has been a certain degree of review (<3 AP Third Block) I still find that I'm learning enough to keep me going. And it's not like I'm uninterested, by any means -- I find Psychology absolutely fascinating, and am now toying with the idea of being a (rich) Occupational Psychologist (who is also a swinging bachelor by night -- and a doctor [PH.D, not M.D.]).

No, the trouble here comes from waking up. As I currently lack the means of transporting myself from one area to the next in a motorized vehicle, without parental supervision, I take the bus. And hey, I love the bus, I really do -- so many new and interesting personalities -- but I wish their schedule didn't go 7:30 bus 8:00 bus 8:30 bus 10:00 bus, leaving me stuck with 8:30, so I can arrive at 9, and spend an hour haunting the halls and coffee shop like some kind of ghostly beatnik. Or I could always blog.

Stuck with this, I have to wake up at 8 A.M. every morning. There has been more than one morning in which I have failed to do so. I know that we were done with school just a few weeks ago, but my body had already happily settled into the comfortable routine of waking up at noon, scratching myself, feeding myself, and going back to sleep. Deprived of that, it is now punishing me; I have more aches and pains than an old man, my vision blurs, my joints pop audibly as I get out of bed, and I feel infirm and unrested.

So, barring some kind of narcotic wake up material, it looks like I've resigned myself to quite an enjoyable six weeks of classes, and not so enjoyable six weeks of waking up.