If only I could Sleepwalk

For anyone who hasn't caught on just yet, I am an insomniac. Or maybe I am just a night owl who likes to sleep while the sun is up. I don't know for sure, but it is 0330 and I am no closer to closing my eyes than I was six hours ago. I feel that I do my best thinking a) while driving or b) when I should be sleeping. So, due to the fact that I am on my computer, one can guess that it is obviously the latter rather than the former. 

Tonight I enjoyed a trip down memory lane through my friend Holly's blog with her boot camp revival stories. I'm not sure if everyone had the same love-hate relationship during their experience, but the smallest phrase can flood my mind with vivid pictures of Parris. As Holly explained in her introduction of me as a guest blogger on her site, I was am a perfectionist. I know, it is such a stretch to your consciousness, but I was so hell bent on trying to be right, do the right thing, and yes, for the Drill Instructors to like me. There has always been a chasm between the rational and emotional parts of my brain. I knew that they would never like their recruits, it was their job to hate us (or at least act like it), but damn-it if I wasn't hell bent on making them like me. As far as I know this was never accomplished, but it did make me a total pain in the ass to live with for three months. I never have been very good at making friends, especially not with people my own age. I am more comfortable sitting around with my grandparents and their friends playing cards than going out and talking to people I sit next to in school or at a bar. I guess that explains why my husband is almost seven years older than me.

Looking back at all the relationships I've had in my life, I have realized that I am really just not a people person. As far back as pre-k I distinctly remember feeling the need to lie about myself to make someone like me. I don't remember the girl's name, or really anything about her except she was "popular." The boys liked her, and I liked the boys, so what better way to have any interaction with them then be friends with the one they like. (Can you tell I screwed up my priorities early in life?)  Anyways... my great grandparents' house caught fire when we were in kindergarten, still at the day care, and I told her about it. I loved telling stories and turned that story into something more interesting. Success, we became friends. At recess everyday, those boys would chase her around the playground, and I figured that the best way to get them to stop since she didn't want them to, was for us to chase them back.

This twisted understanding of friendships and crushes continued, once I started elementary school I used to get the boys I liked to chase me again by taunting them with "I'm faster than you are, you couldn't catch me in 1,000 years!" When this tactic stopped working, my new best friend Mandy and I would simply chase the cute boys we liked at recess in a forced game of tag. I guess I never really learned how to properly establish interpersonal relationships since besides Mandy, I talked more to my teachers than I did to fellow students. I never had the female friendships that teach one how to talk, dress, or act like a girl. I took ballet for all of a 3 classes until they wouldn't let my mom stay in the room, I was a brownie for only a year, and the one time I thought I wanted to try out for cheer-leading my dad responded with "I would rather you be an athlete than an airhead." So I joined athletics; basketball, cross country, and track, sports my dad would be proud of. To add to this lack of femininity I decided the summer going into my freshman year of high school that I was going to join the military.

At the time I was determined to go to West Point or Annapolis, I wrote them letters requesting information but they replied with "we're sorry, contact us when you are at least 17 years of age." Formal education was always something that came pretty easy to me, it was expected and delivered by everyone in my family. My father is a genius, although he refuses to go on Jeopardy because of the "small talk" with Alex Trebek after the first commercial. My mother went to nursing school at night when we were very young, all while managing to maintain an orderly household, spend time with us kids and Dad, and still make me and my sister dresses for Christmas. My sister definitely took after my dad, she helped me write history papers over the phone while drunk in college. My brother again is brilliant. Although he didn't finish his formal degree (I believe it had more to do with boredom than anything else since he had good grades), he chose to pursue a more noble profession and attended the Police Academy. Well, anyways my point was that I just stopped caring about grades, homework, and school all together. There really wasn't a challenge and I didn't feel like giving it much effort, this held true for cross country, track, and band.

I guess you can say that I am really just a lazy person with high expectations. I put forth just enough effort to get what I want, even if it is for the purpose of proving something to someone else, but that's about it. I wanted to go to the regional cross country meet, so I actually practiced for the week before district so I could drop 2 minutes off my 2 mile time and qualify. I went as an alternate, so I stopped practicing after that.  In school, the only classes I would "study" for were ones where I liked the professor so I didn't want them to think I was dumb. And that really only applied to 2 of my history professors (luckily those 2 professors taught 6 of my 8 history classes).

I wait until the very last minute to do things, but the universe has yet to condemn me for my crime. I have no idea how or why it seems to be this way, but my bad habits have not kicked me in the ass enough for me to change. 15 page paper with 20 sources due today... I turn in 11 pages and 14 sources- I get a 93. Don't read the assigned book and randomly write down generalized phrases based on section titles- I get an 85. Actually run for 7 days and drop from a 15 minute 2 mile to a 13 minute run... Where is my incentive to change my ways? I have been conditioned to be lazy. I know there must be examples of when this has resulted in a punishment, but it is on a variable ratio schedule that I can't even remember when it has. This is the same reason that even though everyone knows what the speed limit is, they drive 5-10 mph faster on the highway. You may get a ticket once in a while, but you get away with it 100x more than you get tickets.

It is now almost 0500 and I should probably attempt once more to fall asleep, although Wookie keeps snoring and hogging my bed. 200+ combined pounds and 3 pair of legs in a twin bed make for an uncomfortable night sleep. So sadly I must wake her up and send her to her own bed... all of 2 feet away. I cannot wait until my husband comes home to once again have a king sized bed instead. Although living rent free with my dad for a year does have its major financial benefits...



Good night, sweet dreams, my you all have a safe tomorrow.