When you deprive yourself of sleep, your body begins to devise clever yet desperate ways to get you in bed, kinda like socially awkward college males (zing!). It also becomes rather irate.
Body: WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING.
Me: Getting out of bed like I should have done 6 minutes ago.
Body: SHIT IT IS REALLY COLD YOU SHOULD PROBABLY LIE DOWN AND COVER UP IT IS COLD.
Me: It's not that cold, you were just out in the other night in a t shirt and it couldn't have been above 35 degrees.
Body: I'M SORRY I THOUGHT YOU SAID SOMETHING BUT ALL I HEAR IS BITCH BITCH BITCH.
Me: Hey, I'm not the one complaining about the cold.
Body: THAT IS NOT THE POIN- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING NOW?
Me: Getting some orange juice.
Body: FUCK DON'T OPEN THE REFRIGERATOR WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT? GO TO THE BED AND COVER UP YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO LIE DOWN.
Me: Nothing doing body, I am wise to your tricks. Have a jacket.
Body: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE?
Me: It's like a portable blanket, all the warmth of being in bed without the being in bed.
Body: THAT IS THE WORST IDEA. BESIDES, DON'T YOU FEEL THAT? DON'T YOU FEEL HEAVY? DAMN, YOU BETTER GO SIT DOWN ON THE COUCH, MAYBE STRETCH OUT A BIT AND CLOSE YOUR EYES FOR A SECOND OR TWO...
Me: Nah, I'll just walk around a bit; see? The heaviness is gone.
Body: GO FUCK YOURSELF.
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