And then in the morning as I slap my alarm clock twelve times before getting up and realizing that SHIT I'M TWENTY MINUTES LATE I think, "Wow. I'm soooo comfortable. Why did I not think so last night? What am I, CRAZY?!?!"

The important thing right now is that I'M AWAKE. This is me. It's not my subconcious or a hologram of myself doing the typing while I lie unconcious in bed in the next room. I am fully concious, however much it may seem unbelievable to you right now as you are reading this pathetic excuse for an entry, but it's true.

I had a horrible day. Well, what I remember of it was horrible. The rest I just slept through.

Except for drama. I was taking a nice little nap on the hard concrete floor (don't ask) I hear the phrase "then he drops his pants."

And my minds perks up, and I bolt upright saying, "What? Who drops pants? What? No pants?"

Apparently in some scene that these people are performing, the main character drops his pants and goes through the entire scene in his underwear. But I didn't know that.

So when all the other guys began asking, "Ooh, can I take off my pants, too? Can I? Can I?" I was distressed in the slightest way. It was one of those moments where I wasn't exactly sure whether to squint my eyes and hope for it all t obe over soon or to toss a few bucks their way and beg for a striptease. They were swimmers. Yumm-mmy.

And my drama teacher, Mr. Sedevie says, while I'm still disoriented mind you:

"Fine. Everybody take off their pants. I declare this to be a Pants-Optional class."

WTF?!

NEVER, EVER, EVER FOR THE LOVE OF CHILDLIKE INNOCENCE AND EVERYTHING YOU BELIEVE TO BE HOLY, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES say that to a group of perverted teeange swimmers. I mean, they wear Speedos. So when you say shit like that to them, they tend to go a little wild.

Not a whole lot fazes me. I will say that.

But forget it. This is practically Wild On Basement Drama Class. My poor virgin eyes couldn't handle the sheer amount of just....flesh.

I'm making it sound like they actually stripped, which they didn't. But they did pretty much like go-go-dancers do: go as far as humanly possible without actually doing anything. Like, DUH, that's half the fun. Hello?!

And it's extremely sad and pathetic that here I am, in the prime of my youth ,about to go to bed at about nine o'clock thinking, "Why do I like sleep so much?" and then casually turning on the TV and perhaps stroking the cat curled up nicely in my armpit.

And then fast-forward to the next morning: me looking like Medusa, 245397897 tons of cat fur layered on the comforter, me sniffling, sneezing, and cursing as I turn off the alarm and thinking, "Oh yeah. This is why I like sleep."

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!