Sleep Talking Bri

I often find myself engulfed by the same sheer exhaustion that overtook me during many a night of studying in college.  Normally it happens around 8pm here as opposed to 12am.  I normally just stumble from my hammock to my bed as opposed to refusing to admit that I’m not going to complete anymore for the night and forcing Evie to be the one to unbury me from a thousand pages of wastewater text, cover me up, and turn off the light… oh ya, AND fight with Sleep Talking Bri about setting her alarm.

 It might start out with a nice question such as, “Hey Bri, did you set your alarm?” She (Sleep Talking Bri, not me) is a clever one and knows which response requires movement and which does not so she’ll respond “Ya.” And probably even add, “Thanks” to be more convincing.  Noticing the lack of a little red button light illuminated next to the word “alarm” on my brown 1980s clock Evie’ll shoot back, “I can see your clock.  It’s not set.”

“It is,” Sleep Talking Bri responds in what is probably best described as a whine.

Now Evie has a choice to make, she can ask what time I want it set for and set it herself, but chances are the answer won’t be accurate as Sleep Talking Bri’s only objective is to avoid stirring, clear distractions (Evie), and get to the REM cycle as fast as possible; not to keep track of my class schedule.  Or Evie can prod me, unsuccessfully, a little more, but not get anywhere.  Sleep Talking Bri is good at what she does!  Either way, having come in with the sweetest of intentions, Evie will most likely leave frustrated and a little bitter.  Maybe even half hoping I do sleep through my first class, as a lesson, so I’ll just set my alarm the next time she asks.  (I gave you the abridged version of our discussion.  Evie has the right to be frustrated!)

Evie will go to bed and wake up with residual frustration toward me.  I (Real Bri, not Sleep Talking Bri) will wake up oblivious to the entire situation and probably extra chipper (I love mornings!) seeing as I went to bed (read: fell asleep) earlier than planned.  I probably then will go into Evie’s room to say good morning by singing the Good Morning song (which she actually came to like when I let her add a verse on the end where she “opens her eyes, rolls out of bed, opens the window, and shoots them birds dead”) or by just crawling in her bed and saying excitedly “Don’t you just love mornings?!”

Since Evie is a kind and patient person, we’re still friends.  But I would like to issue a public apology to all of those that have been offended by Sleep Talking Bri.  Especially to Lauren, for hitting you in the face.  And Erica too… for hitting you in the face.

So here in Panama, I nod off in my hammock at 8pm and drag myself to bed.  Not suffering from a college-induced sleep debt, my body snaps awake after 8 hours… at 4am.  At least the roosters are up too?!  It’s 4am.  Why are the roosters awake?  Why am I awake?