I haven’t been awake for a year and some days now. You’d think sleeping through four seasons would be refreshing, but let me tell you, it’s the most draining, non-human thing I’ve experienced. Some days are good, like, the kind of sleep where you wake up at 7:43 with a start, suddenly realize it’s early Sunday morning, and blissfully turn on your side, rapt and wrapped with sheets and blankets warmed from 7 hours’ body heat. Then, some days are bad, really fucking bad. Like sleeping through class-dinner-a date-your own mother’s funeral-bad. Those bad days have really outnumbered the good ones. I’m not trying to complain, it’s just that, well you know when you’re asleep and someone raps on your hollow door, and it echoes in your bleary brain and you just want to scream stop, but you can’t because, remember, you’re asleep? It’s that. Over and over. Literal sleep, day-walking sleep, moments of comfort crashing into days of depression. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that being asleep all the time is. Really goddam tiring.