Sleep

I love sleep. I spent much of my spring break sleeping. I have been known to sleep for fifteen hours straight and I must admit that sleeping like that is better than "better than sex" cake.

I lose quite a bit of sleep during the semester, especially during midterms and finals, but I only have five weeks left until I can spend almost an entire week sleeping.

I recently learned from Paul Martin's 2002 book, Counting Sheep: The Science and Pleasures of Sleep and Dreams that the average human being spends about one third of his or her life sleeping. He actually focuses his first chapter, "A Third of Life," on an 1801 quote by Charles Darwin's grandfather, Erasmus Darwin.

In 2002, Martin wrote that one third of a human life equals about 25 years! 25 years of sleep sounds absolutely phantasmagorical! Too bad it can't all happen at once!

I wonder if Washington Irving would agree with me? He wrote Rip Van Winkle just 18 years after Erasmus Darwin made the original claim that humans sleep for about a third of their lives.

Cranes, I'm Sorry, but You're Fired

The cranes were late this year. If you live in Kearney, Nebraska, the tardiness of these cranes may have put you in the same awkward situation that I'm in. Next week, I'm supposed to be in class and at crane events at the same time on at least three different days. I can sympathize with the cranes complaints about the long, cold winter; however, my schedule is a nightmare now because they did not make it here on time...and I decided to take 19 credits this semester...and I work part time...and UNK's Language and Literature Conference is this week...

Despite the crazy schedule I've thrown myself into, I can't get away with being a week late, so I would like to fire the cranes. Am I being ridiculous? Absolutely, but why not? Next year, I might attend events for the migration of monarch butterflies, or hitch a ride with scientists to follow the whale migration...actually I will probably just watch programs about these events on PBS. That's right - no cable. When would I have time to watch it?

A Piece of Land

There once was a boy who grew up working, fishing, and hunting on the plains of Nebraska. He loved the open space almost as much as he loved his family. In high school, he talked to his friends about girls, cars, and where he would like to live some day. Some of his friends wanted to move to exotic, faraway lands where they would drive boats to impress scantily clad girls who loved all men equally. Others wanted to drive dog sleds and hunt the wild lands of the far north where the permafrost would make girls want to cuddle in their bear hides. But this boy wanted a piece of land much like the one he grew up on.

After high school, he tried living in the city. It wasn't what he wanted. He tried moving near the great park called Yellowstone. He still had to live in the city. He traveled to Mexico and Alaska, but he only wanted to be at home in Nebraska.

Finally, he met a girl who confused him so much that he couldn't help but love her. They dated for a while, went on a wild road trip, and lived together for three years. He loved her, but something still restricted his happiness: they rented a place in town.

On his twenty-fifth birthday, he visited his parents. His dad knew of a house for sale that was out in the country and right on the river. The boy wanted that house - or at least the land it was on.

He went home that night and begged his girlfriend to go to the bank with him. He was so excited that he paced all over their tiny rented space as he talked. He had to have that house.

If you haven't guessed by now, the boy in this story is my boyfriend, Dustin Selden (iamafiend@hotmail.com). We're not married, we've never had a serious conversation about buying a house before tonight, and I haven't really decided what I think about this whole situation because, through my own series of unfortunate events, I own a house in North Carolina. I am not the type to commit to something as big as buying a house for the sole purpose of making someone happy, but I'm not the type to totally crush the dreams of someone I care about either.

I hope I get some good comments because I haven't figured out how to wrap my head around this one yet.

What time is it?

"Time is running out," "it's time to go," "I don't have time for this," "what a waste of time," "do that on your own time, not mine" ...

I have no idea what time actually is, but I never seem to have enough of it, it never seems to be the right time, and I seem to fall into all of life's stressful times before my time. Time is a word with many definitions, but none of those definitions really say all there is to say about a word like time. Time is a spiral: words on a page turning over and over from cover to cover and back to the cover and it seems to never end. Time is the absolute extent of human life (because the afterlife must be something we can't experience as humans): a timeline with a beginning and an end with many stops in between. Time is so difficult a concept to grasp that I wonder if it's possible to spend my time wisely. Am I wasting my time contemplating time? Do I have time for this? What time is it?

Network

While watching the movie Network, I was really struck by the fact that many people on news shows really are T.V. personalities more than reporters. For example, I think it would be hard for most people to argue if I said Katie Couric is a hard hitting reporter and she plays one on T.V. Even the death of Nebraska's own Bob Geiger created a celebrity-style buzz my senior year of high school. That's right. High school students spent most of the day telling each other how sad it was that the weatherman they used to watch was now dead. I didn't grow up in Nebraska, so I couldn't really relate to the Bob Geiger weatherman-fan club, but this reaction to his death shows how even local news reporters can become news personalities.

While We're on the Subject...

Is it just me, or do all college students, teachers, and other employees count down the year break by break? Last semester, the breaks didn't seem too far apart, but I was dying for Christmas break starting in...October.

I didn't exactly get a break then because I flew to North Carolina to see my family (and go to five different Christmas parties), but I've been looking forward to spring break since I came back from Christmas!

Now I'm starting to feel like this entire academic year has been a headlong rush towards summer because the next break coming up is the most time off I'll get all year. Best of all, I will actually have time to lay around in my pajamas and eat ice cream!

I know that taking eighteen or more credit hours each semester means I have more work than people who only take twelve or fifteen, but it feels like I'm living for my breaks just as much as I'm living for my next paycheck.

Spring Break, Yeah Right

So far, I'm not getting much of a break for "Spring Break." I have been finishing up homework assignments, I've worked every day this weekend, and when I got home from work today, I found that my house had been trashed by little children and my boyfriend. I refuse to clean that. I clean my messes, he can clean his.

I have at least three major homework assignments due next week, so I don't even have the illusion that I can do nothing for the whole break. I really want to do nothing, though.

I also have twenty pages of fiction work due by the end of the term, several books to read, and a twenty to twenty-five page academic paper that I will have to start after this so-called break. Yuck!

I really should just lock myself away for the week with my computer and my coffee pot.

Unfortunately, I will not get much of a break for "Spring Break," but on the up side, this semester will be over in about a month and a half...let the countdown to summer begin!