I
AM sleep deprivation.
And I have a neat story about it from yesterday.
Wednesday night, I was writing/recording music/getting wasted.
I have to get up at 6AM every weekday to go to work, so, to my horror, I watched as the clock went from 9pm to 12am to 1:48am to 3:23am to 4:30am, etc.
So, after having already worked a day on 2 or 3 hours of sleep, it was to be another hungover hell at work on Thursday with..."maybe an hour of sleep, if I'm super-lucky?!?
"
So, my alarm went off at 6:12am, and I felt like I wanted to cry, scrambling to find some way that I could stay in bed, just for, a few more minutes.
A-HA! "I'll...um, SHAVE AT WORK! No one'll notice."
So I set the alarm for 6:25 and prayed to Jesus that there would be a bomb threat at work so I could sleep some more.
So, Thursdays are the most stressful and busy days of the week at work. And sure enough, I had to deal with 500 stupid, or evil, or arrogant or non-English speaking or schizophrenic or STOOPID people all day long....hungover...on about 40 F***ING minutes of sleep.
Now, when you're an old drinker who gets roughly 18 hours of sleep per week, and you're sitting there fake-smiling at work, you literally feel like you're dying. Your bones start to ache, you can't do "10 + 12 = ?" in your head without a dementia-storm. You feel like you have the flu, only the flu is more cozy.
So I was fantasizing about getting off and finally getting to go home and go to bed, to...maybe SLeeeEEEEEeeeP, somehow!
Improbably, I made it through work. It feels like your nerves are dying when you never sleep, so at least that provides a kind of anesthesia*shrug*
So I got on the Bus *gasp* "YES!". I was reading my magazine and when I looked up and saw that my stop was coming up, I CAME in my pants!...at the thought of soon, getting into to my bed, where my bones could turn to powder in peace. Maybe if I was lucky, I'd never wake up!
So I was in so much Sleep-Dep Pain that I started giggling like a witch as I approached my door.
I went to open it and
WTF?!?
the.....not possible!....the door was locked.
See, weird as it sounds, I have 3 other roommates and we have never, in 5 years locked our front door. Stupid? sure. But, that's just the way it's always been. None of us even know what ever happened to the key. We never, never lock the door and never, EVER carry keys.
No one would've locked the door. I was devastated, I tapped out the rhythms to the entire Led Zeppelin 4 album on the doorbell, just...praying that somehow, some way, some idiot was inside and would open the door. I, walked all around my house, but there is no way in, all windows too high, or too small...DOOM.
So of course, it had to be our new roommate, no one else would've locked the door! But I have no idea where he works. Maybe it was the singer in my band, but of course the hotel where he works is brand new, not, in the phone book, and I have no idea what his girlfriend's number is or where SHE works.
I couldn't remember the old name of the Hotel, so I wasted 4 bucks on a payphone at a buck a call. To my extreme horror, I realized that my only hope was taking a cab BACK DOWNTOWN, to the hotel, only hoping that by some weird chance, my singer might freakishly have his key on him.
I could not accept this reality.
X 1,000,000,000,000
Well I got to the hotel, and....no, it hadn't been him that locked the door, furthermore, he of course had no key, no idea who could've possibly locked the door, and now he was as pissed and full of panic as I was!
So what ended up happening is, we assumed that we'd been robbed, and the burglars were genius *******s and locked our door behind them as the ultimate Nelsonesque "HA-ha". So he told his boss he had an emergency, we took a cab back to the house. We borrowed a ladder from the cool dude at the nearby market, but it was too short. We called everyone, even our 2 old roommates, to see if anyone knew anything or had accidentally locked the door, or if it had been our c***-faced landlord or one of her minions...no answers.
By now it was like 6pm and I was a human zombie of pain, practically an instant homeless man, dreaming of bedding down in the scorpion-filled crawlspace under our porch, just to
S.L.E.E.P.!!!!!!!!
So we walked to the conveniently located locksmith down the street, and holy god, they were closed, but the guy was still there, and agreed to help us out.
By now, my singer's girlfriend was home, freaking out and pissed that we weren't trying harder to find someone with a 10 foot ladder, and I'm all, "I would pay $500 bucks right now just to be in the same ROOM as my bed!"
So, $4 on the payphone, $10 cab to the hotel, $10 cab-ride back, and now ONE HUNDRED BUCKS (I was the only one with that much in cash on me, coolz!) to have the locksmith OPEN MY FREAKING FRONT DOOR!
But you've got to understand, when you're locked out of your own house, hungover and sleep-deprived and you know that none of your roommates have a key, and that none of them locked it...the rage and panic is overwhelming. I thought I was going to have a stroke...THREE strokes!
My singer and I were fantasizing about finding out who'd done this and kicking them in the balls, for DAYS!
So, we got in, proved that we lived there, and finally...my gorgeous bedroom, where I sat...so...flooded with adrenaline from rage, because...what had happened was, our new roommate had a large box delivered, and the GOD-F*** C*** U.P.S. guy, HAD TAKEN IT UPON HIMSELF TO OPEN OUR DOOR, PUT THE PACKAGE INSIDE, AND THEN LOCK THE DOOR...
JUST TO BE SAFE, I GUESS!
So I sat, shaking with rage and adrenaline...on my bed
COMPLETELY UNABLE TO...
FALL ASLEEP.
and now, it's 2:10am, and I have to get up at 6am to go to work tomorrow, and I'm on the Hype, 'cause I can't...
sleep
yeah, so...don't talk to me about sleep deprivation.