There are many activities that always make me feel slow-witted -- excessive drinking-meat eating binges (usually only happens down South America way), breathing in noxious fumes, watching the movie Snatch, doing geometry, and, after this week I can add waking up at 5:20 am three days in a row to go to work. At first, waking up at 5:20 was sort of an adventure, sorta fun, sorta exhilarating. Now, I realize that after three days of doing it, it just makes me stupid.
Working at the hostel is still fun, especially now that I am fully trained and allowed to work shifts by myself (!), but the early morning wake-ups are harsh. Also, since that magical first day when the Starbucks people gave me all the free food and coffee, I have showed up there hopefully, giving the baristas my most winning smile, but to no avail. Dang.
Anyway, I felt the full effect of those early-morning wake-ups yesterday, as I was getting my nails done and fell asleep several times, causing my hand to jerk as my head fell forward, and thus wrecking the nail that the woman was painstakingly painting with her little brush. Not even the fact that a man with a beard and a cell phone clipped to his belt came in and asked for a manicure and (spa) pedicure could rouse me from my fugue state. I wanted to gawk at him and make him feel ashamed for having good grooming habits, but I couldn't even keep my eyes open.
I also fell asleep on muni coming home, and woke up to find that I was the only one left on the bus except for one man, who was sitting right next to me, despite the fact that the whole bus was empty. I looked at him, startled, and he said, "Go ahead and take a nap, I won't let you fall over." EW. I just looked ahead, because I was too creeped out/tired to say anything, like, "uh, sir, would you mind removing your thigh from mine and relocating to one of the 15 empty seats immediately surrounding us? Thanks." Eventually he moved, I think because I stayed awake and he gave up on the possibility of me actually falling asleep on him, which seemed to be the end goal.
Once I got home, ate dinner with my grandparents, and settled into the easy chair to watch Hotel Rwanda, my brain completely shut down. Not even a film about genocide could keep me awake -- not even the scenes with machine gun fire for 3 minutes straight. Oof.