this is my dull life. this is my dull life on drugs. this is a haiku.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Perfecting the spread-eagle power-nap

Yesterday, I rediscovered the fact that I've got a midterm coming up this Thursday. That being said, I naturally found myself in a single study-room in the library today. And following my approximately biweekly routine, I found myself becoming tired and taking a nap beneath the study-room table.

Y'see, normally I curl up right under the desk and remain in the same position until my 3 hours in the tiny room are up. Today though, I must have unconsciously spread out, taking up the whole diagonal of the square room's floor.

Normally I do pretty well in keeping track of when, approaching the 3-hour limit, I should crawl up onto my chair and attempt to look presentable. Why look presentable, you ask? Because that's when hot chicks, having been told by the librarians that they're to boot you out of the room -- that's when they come up and knock on the door. I guess it's not strictly hot chicks who do this, but today it happened to be.

The problem was that I was still sprawled out unconscious on the floor.

I woke to tapping. I was immediately alert, and before I'd even openned my eyes, I realized what was going on (Apparently I sleep lightly while napping on thin carpet from the 60s). Whoever was at the door would definitely be looking through the little window right about now, puzzled by the figure on the floor.

After several moments, I realized that, by the way I'd spread out, one of my feet was preventing the study room door from openning inwards. The knocker couldn't open the door even if they wanted to. Having still not moved or openned my eyes, I decided that my plan of action was to be one of strict inaction, ie. I would Ignore the problem and hopefully it would go away.

It didn't.

Following the third set of knocks (and after miming an awakening that would get me into the Screen Actor's Guild), I openned the door, apologizing profusely. I couldn't even make eye-contact, though this was partly because my own eye-contacts were stuck to my eyeballs and causing me to blink uncontrollably.

So yeah: I felt stupid. She felt stupid.
Everybody feels stupid.

The end.