And so I slept again

This day is like fleeting to dreamland and one moment skipping back to reality. I felt like I was injected with a sleeping medication twice today. This morning after mass, I slept at the couch at around 9:30 and woke up at 11. After lunch, I went to my room, read a few chapters of Kite Runner, and magically slept again until 4:30 in the afternoon.

You know the feeling of too much sleep that when you wake up, you have to allow yourself to regain composure as you do minimal movements first? It's a way not to shock yourself and give life to those drowsed muscles and veins of yours. I felt like I was in some sleep rehab.

I could say that majority of my day ended up with Morpheus. I think for some reason I deserve it. I believe there's a moment in a person's life that this "unproductive" day is called for. If you could sum up my activities for the day, it was so minimal and I could easily do it in less than 2 hours.

1. I went to Mass.
2. I took pictures of the bazaar
3. Ate lunch
4. Read a book
5. Talked to a few people
6. Manage to blog in between sleep.

The last time I enjoyed this much sleep was on third year or was it fourth year of high school where we had to camp out at some unforgiving place in Cavite. It was sort of a military-camping training for girls. We had to be regrouped with different sections and called ourselves PULUTONG. I think I was in Pulutong DUGONG, and I could say that I was practically the most useless team mate. I couldn't cook. I had allergies all the time and I had my period. Call it yucky, the hell I care. I'm not even going to contest it. It seems that coming up with PULUTONG cheers in the middle of that day, when I smell like 10x worse than a Kargador because of interchanging rain and heat, and damn starving was not my ideal activity. 99% I was awake and 1% was me sleeping (if you could call any of that sleep). At night we slept at our tour bus because our tent collapsed under the rain. I woke up with an immensely bad back, with allergies all over and wearing the same clothes I wore the other day. And every morning, we had to trek before breakfast of pork and beans and boiled egg! ARGH!

On my way home you couldn't imagine how relieved I was when I saw the city. Thoughts of writing a paper condemning the camp officials on "torturing" us like that entered my mind. I honestly felt TORTURED.

When I got to St. Scho, I didn't even try to meet my usual friends as I immediately went straight to the gate and looked for my driver. I acted like a complete grumpy refugee and the moment I saw the car I thought I'm going to faint of relief. I warned him of my smell and asked him to go to the nearest McDo drive thru. I think I ordered a big mac, large fries, sundae and large Sprite. When I got home, I asked Ate Ne to just pull out my things from the car (BURN THEM) and went straight to my bathroom. I dumped my clothes (in the hopes of BURNING THEM!) and took a cold refreshing bath. I slept for more than 12 hours.

It was like that today. A sort of sleeping marathon only that I didn't suffer from any camping. I think I suffered from something else. Constantly staying up late in the city that I love, reading and squeezing everything in one whole day and night for the past few weeks. My body just backlashed. What a way to teach me a lesson.