I hate you sleep

Sleep. Ha. I remember that. It has slyly alluded me ever since college has started. I'll be dozing off all throughout the day -- straining as hard as I can to keep my eyes open and mind attentive. Then, the second I get into bed -- I feel like running for miles. I immediately get so much energy that I don't know what to do with it. I lay awake for hours trying to stop my brain from thinking about a million things at once. Then, when I finally maybe am able to fall asleep, my roommate has an unfortunate tendency of coming into the room and turning the lights on at 4 in the morning. Add two concussions into the mix and some crazy concussion-induced awakenings where I am not quite sure where or who I am for a little while and countless 3 AM Jimmy Johns adventures and the occasional 3:30 Pizza House trip and... Well. Sleep. Shit. I miss you so. I'm able to sleep like a baby in written theory class -- but does that really count? My sleep schedule is ridiculous. Take now for example. It's 2 in the morning and I have an 8 O'clock class on north campus. Why am I not asleep? This makes no sense. Why are you so cruel to me sleep? Why can't we just get along? Why do you overwhelm me with your seductive powers when I'm practicing the piano but desert me in the waning hours of the night? I miss sleep.