Sacred Snooze Button

Sleeping was seen as some sort of weakness as a 7 year old child. I remember well the days I despised going to bed, believing I was missing out on the mysterious time the ‘grown ups’ had downstairs. I didn’t know what happened but I wanted to be grown up like them, and they were staying up so why shouldn’t I? If my sister fell asleep on the sofa after school, when she woke up she’d be adamant that ‘I WAS NOT ASLEEP!’ We had it made! Spaghetti hoops, followed by biscuits then bed at 8pm – 7am.

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Nowadays, as a student, who often does all nighters, sometime due to workloads, sometimes because my sleeping pattern’s destroyed, sleep is precious, precious time. As a self confessed snooze button junkie, I cannot get up in a morning. I’ve even tried putting my phone in a shoebox at the bedroom door to force me to be annoyed enough about getting out of bed to make the noise stop. Didn’t work.

‘Five more minutes’.

Every time.

Of course, my housemate is annoyingly good at getting out of bed. In my mind, she is woken by birdsong, glides down the stairs to open the kitchen window, through which soar bluebirds who pour her cereal, the kitten does the washing up, and if I didn’t get the Burley Park train every morning with her I’d have sworn she rode inside a horse drawn carriage to get to uni. Of course, none of this is true but I do envy her willpower for giving up the sacred snooze time. How does she do it??