Mandatory Vacation

Oh my God, I am such a waste of space.

So I have the week off (paid - which is nice), due to the University's desire to keep us off of campus, but I have nothing to do. I have four books from the library to read, and four more that I received for Christmas, but once I finished reading the first, I haven't had much desire to move along.

So on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, I stayed up until 3 a.m. watching the first season of The Vampire Diaries (which is totally kick-ass and not at all like Twilight but still embarrassing enough that I ). I finally went to bed, and set my alarm for a modest 9 a.m. so that I wouldn't sleep the day away.

I recall hitting snooze a few times, but after that, I must have turned it off completely. When I finally crawled out of bed, it was 1 p.m.

Me: "Nicely done, ass. You've wasted hours of a vacation day."
Heather's Body: "What are you TALKING about? That was brilliant!"
Me: "But I have SO much to do today! Like... um..."
Heather's Body: "EXACTLY.

I love to sleep. It's deeply satisfying. And when I normally have to be at work at 7:45 in the morning on a weekday, there is something liberating about ignoring the alarm clock -- or not setting it at all.

There were a few days last week that I found myself awake and out of bed before noon. And by "few," I mean, "one." And I went to Biggby for coffee. And that's it. Before I knew it, I was back home, out of my bra, and on the couch, which -- is kind of like the bed. I say this because I definitely snoozed a bit.

I am DREADING going back to work on the 3rd. Dreading.