What I have is not insomnia.

What I have is much simpler, and probably much more indicative of my personality than a chronic disorder would say about me.

I don't sleep at night because my habits are, quite frankly, erratic. I sometimes sleep during the day, thus screwing myself come bedtime. I pull the occasional all-nighter because of my procrastinating nature, and my inability to establish a healthy lifestyle has more than once put me at odds with others around me.

But I couldn't sleep, and I was told that if you lay in bed for more than 15 minutes without meeting the sandman then you are wasting your time. The advice given me was to get up and do something for a bit and then proceed to search for death's cousin anew. So, here I am blogging about my sad inabilty to find rest.

I hate sleeping. I don't hate it in the sense that it is not enjoyable, but rather, I hate the fact that our bodies need rest. If I were constantly awake, not needing rest, my life would be much more focused, and my habits would be healthier. It's like money. If money didn't corrupt, people wouldn't hate it. The problem with money is that people need it, and when there is a need for something, it usually becomes the root of some evil.

Sleep is the root of my evil. Today, I was talking to my Genetics lab TA and research leader, Raquie, and found that I was not the only insane person around. I was finishing up a drug assay today when I heard her characteristic laugh. It's kind of a fake-sounding laugh, but at the same time a genuinely jolly one. Regardless, I hear her distinct laughter and head into the main part of the lab (I was in the hood room). Surprisingly, she was holding a Red Bull energy drank.

Now, Red Bull, as most of you are well aware, is a drank for energy. Raquie was holding the Sugar-free kind, which is okay, except it was in the 16 fl. oz. variety. This was intriguing to me in particular because I had always thought Raquie as a hard working leader, and to a very significant extent, she is. I kinda look up to her, since she is my research leader, even though she's like five-foot-nothing.

Anyways, we get to talking about her most recent all-nighter (last night), and she was explaining to another member of the research team about how she pulls all-nighters, then gets really tired the next day. So how does she compensate for her tiredness?

Yep, she pulls another all nighter.

This got me thinking. But not for too long because I was hungry and had to get some lunch with Ronak.

Lunch was as uneventful as always, with the typical chicken pesto pasta with garlic and some sushi on the side. Actually, excitingly enough, today's pasta was rather plain and lacking flavor. I was seriously about to complain about the state of Pacific's food, with a piece of sushi filling my mouth, when President DeRosa walked into the dining hall, dressed as formally as any president of a school should.

I kind of looked at him and, unintentionally, we made eye contact. I cannot state how awkward it is when you're walking or standing somewhere with someone walking pass, and you make eye contact but do not greet them. Sometimes it's because you don't know them, and sometimes it's because you've met them but do not know them well enough to greet them. Or sometimes you do greet them even though you don't usually greet them, therefore setting up for countless more awkward moments when you see them and don't greet them or do greet them or make eye contact or don't make eye contact.

It's awkward.

But anyways, president DeRosa and I (pun unintended) make eye contact. Being the big man on campus, and undoubtedly wanting to hold up the veneer of a nice, down-to-earth guy in front of his posse, he came over to me and patted me on the back. Naturally, with sushi in my mouth, I wouldn't have been able to respond, so it befell on Ronak to respond for me.

"How's the pasta?" he asked, patting me on the shoulders as he walked by.

"It's good," replied Ronak.

And that was that.

Except Ronak didn't have pasta on his plate. He had a burrito.

I can only imagine DeRosa's reaction to the Indian boy eating a burrito commenting/lying about the quality of the pasta when the question wasn't even directed at him.

I almost spit out my sushi laughing.