I'm innocent

And so, a beautiful day has found it well to meet with us this day in petite Greenville IL!

Today was thus far a series of appreciated mishaps. I decided to skip my morning class at 8:30... I'll explain... and then I had to trade piano class for my time slot to perform for my voice studio class... it had to be done. Juries are next week. And then Recording class was canceled. I still had three classes and have one more tonight. So even with the deletions I still had a fairly busy day.

Ok, now to perceptively irresponsibility of skipping class this morning.

Last night I went to bed at the fairly reasonable time of 1 a.m, after playing a wonderful prank on our RC.... I couldn't sleep though. So I called my sister, and we chatted for a bit. And then, the power went off. "Great," I thought. "Now there's just no hope." I cannot sleep if the fan/air conditioner is off. So I crept around on facebook for a while, and decided to go outside to look at the stars. All the lights on campus were out, and it was not storming. It was in fact perfectly, startlingly incandescently clear out. The moon, selfishly hiding half of it's beauty, lit the darkened space beneath. The other side of the sky was spotted with crystal, like fire in it's purest form taking on a white glow. The air was sweet and soft, and cool to my sleep-forsaken eyes. It felt good. I wanted to stay in its company. I backed up outside of Burritt, and leaned on the wall, and exhaled. The combination of the fresh, perfect air with the calm and settled stir of the essence of the heavenly celebrities, was moving. Moving in the sense that it could still the wildest motion, ease the incurable furies of our feeble fortitude.

The moment was good enough for me. I could have easily stayed much, much longer. But decided against it. I hopped up the 5 flights of stairs two at a time, my feet slapping the tiles. I heard a someone snoring through the door on the first floor. I tried not to render the resonant snores as little laughters coming to mock my wakefulness. I crawled into bed, quite conscious of the inconsolable temper sleep tends to have. If you try to obtain it with a bad attitude, the attitude comes right back at you, and forbids you the satisfaction of taking hold of its desired sweetness. I tried to be polite, I honestly did. I even tried to think well of the springy, shaky mattress below me. But stinkin' sleep has a bad sense of humor, and as demonstrated last night, holds grudges when I don't obey the call to sleep when I'm well and ready for it.

I lay there, my head on my pillow. No noise whatsoever. That stinking air conditioner was in on this little game sleep was playing at my heartbreaking expense. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, as if it were functioning inside my pillow instead of my chest. I could hear the pulse actually moving the cotton cover on my pillow. It was disgusting.

Eventually my delirious thoughts became lost amidst the unconscious dreamlike renditions of mental musings. Sleep surrendered it's apathetic appraisals. I was asleep. At least I was when my alarm went off at 8 o'clock this morning. My voice was like a man's after smoking for 67 years. I felt sweaty and altogether discombobulated. The air conditioner had come back on at some point during my slumber. I suppose the state I found myself in this morning was evidence enough that I had wrestled with little miss sleep like a one man fishnet would have to wrestle with a fairly large fish after catching it as it sputters and freaks out on the ground, desperate for water. Although I was wrestling with the mental prospect of misery, it was exhausting.

And so, I turned my alarm back on for a later hour, and returned to sleep.

And so this is my story and I'm stickin' to it.