Humor: Sleep Study

Dylan Hostetter, Contributing Writer

Now, you are probably thinking, “why would anyone decide to do a sleep study on themselves?” Or maybe you are not thinking that — but you should be, because that is what I am thinking, and it would be nice if we were on the same page. 

I promise it was only meant to be a simple experiment to optimize my REM sleep. That is the deepest stage of sleep for anyone out there not currently involved in a sleep study. I intended to change my body’s cycle entirely, to sleep less each night and nap more during the day. 

I hope you are not one of those people that thinks napping means you are lazy, for you see I am taking “power naps.” Full REM sleep in small increments, baby — the kind of naps you wake up from with lines on your face and drool soaking through the pages of your jumbo sudoku book.

I do not remember exactly when things began to take a turn for the worst, but the signs were mounting. It turns out sleeping only two hours a night makes it quite difficult to make it to 9 a.m. classes and to meet their assorted deadlines. My GPA dropped from a 3.6 to a 1.9, and it has only been a week and a half. 

I brought these concerns to my professor who originally assigned this study, but he was not overly concerned. I am honestly beginning to think he might not be a real professor at all. That would explain why I am the only person in his class and why he carries all his papers around in a plastic bag from Circle K. 

But I did not have time to argue because I had a club meeting to get to, so I gave him his weekly stipend of $20 — I also did not know we had to pay professors directly — and made my exit. 

The club meeting is where things really got wacky. I am not sure why exactly I joined the fencing club in the first place, but as you can imagine, holding a pointy stick while operating on two hours of sleep — and a “power nap,” mind you — may not be the best idea. 

The tension mounted when the club president revealed it was tournament week, and I was quickly paired off for the first round. Despite the adrenaline rushing through my veins, at the sound of the first whistle I was fast asleep. To my astonishment, though, I am apparently a sleep-walking, olympic-level fencer. 

I was feinting and parrying like nobody’s business, all the while being completely knocked out. But you see, my luck caught up to me, because during the first moments of the championship round, I awoke. And as it turns out, I am quite inept with a sabre when conscious. 

My day ended how you may imagine — in the hospital. I am writing this now in the hopes that anyone out there could front me the $20 to pay my professor for next week, as it seems I will be stuck in the ER for the foreseeable future. I really do not want to fail his class, it is the only one I am currently passing. 

He can be found in the alleyway behind the Chipotle; he will be wearing a Nirvana t-shirt and a Pittsburgh Pirates hat turned backwards. I thank you in advance.