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June 18, 2009
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In the morning, when the alarm clock wakes me up, I curse it. Not like in my head, out loud. Cursing, raging, screaming “Why is this happening to me?”. Getting up in the morning is like having a cupcake ripped out of my mouth and having acid poured in its place. It’s awful. You know why? Cause sleep is brilliant.

I have anxiety attacks every night before I go to sleep. They’re vague anxiety attacks, mostly about dying and someone breaking in or not setting my alarm and not waking up on time for something. These anxiety attacks keep me up for an hour past the moment I lay my head on the pillow. So when I get to sleep, I am so happy. I think. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m happy. If sleep weren’t so enjoyable, why else would my body and mind react so violently to waking up? I mean, there’s no other explanation other than sleep is the most awesome thing ever invented by God.  Other than the Internet, which, let’s face it, is pretty great.
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