It is common practice in my apartment to set the alarm 30 minutes prior to when a proper wake-up is actually needed. The 30 minute buffer of time in between proper sleep and time for productivity is a blissful place that mirrors the place a soul flies through before heaven - the waiting room just before the pearly gates with Take-A-Number machines and cots. I appreciate every second of my deep slumbers - I like my Rapid Eye Movement just as much as the next overworked and under-rested working class citizen - but sometimes having the ability to be both asleep and conscious is really a gift that can only be given, never stumbled upon. I like the idea of having aware alone time and there is no place more comfortable than a cool room and a faux-down comforter keeping me nice and toasty while I lay motionless with only the slightest smirk on my face.

The night before a morning wake-up buffer is one that requires both planning and skill. Presumably, the day has been approximately 47 hours long and my muscle groups are noticeably throwing up their white flags. I will get home and spend the next few hours staring at my computer screen, attempting to get my brain to a place that is both stimulated and relaxed - better known as Facebook. Once I have worn the “command” and “r” buttons to the point of no recognition, I close my computer and nestle myself under the covers and attempt to find my first of many sleeping positions I will find myself in throughout the night - I have always found it odd that my sleeping body can find its way into so many different comfortable positions without my brain having any hand in the matter. Once I find the golden position, I find a soothing song on my iPod, something in the early Goldfrapp or Zero 7 genre, and set it really low, but loud enough for my sleeping ears to be audibly nudged and force my brain to slowly regain function. I will set my alarm with the 30 minute buffer period in mind, and set my iPod into the stereo for a volume test. The volume test is key because the beauty in waking up early just to sleep is in waking up calm - the opposite of waking up 10 minutes before you have to be at work and suddenly you’re superhuman and can get ready in 6.5 minutes, including having your bagel toasted, cream-cheesed, and wrapped in a paper towel for easy access on the drive. 

After a few volume attempts and test runs - this involves me playing the song at the exact point at which I assume I will wake up and putting my head on my pillow to see if I can hear the song, enjoy the song, and not be bothered to turn it off at the first instant it plays (I like to enjoy my alarms sometimes) - I dim down my digital clock face, roll into the predetermined ‘start sleep’ pose, and begin a staring contest with the inside of my eyelids. I follow through the stars and tunnels that we saw as 4th graders that pressed slightly on their eyes when they had their heads down for Heads Up 7 Up. I fall into my night’s slumber and await the soothing arias of Zero 7 that are to come in approximately 8 hours. 

Sleep is incredibly valuable to me. Never have I been in so many films, seen so many landmarks, had 17 arms, flown storks to Angelina Jolie’s house every 15 minutes with a new African adoptee. How we were wired with the ability to dream and be entertained in our sleep is something of a masterpiece thanks to whatever or whoever was in the “brain” department at Humans ‘R Us. I greatly enjoy being able to cross the Serengeti without actually having to buy a plane ticket. Unfortunately, every dream comes to an end when the alarm goes off. Just in time, 30 minutes early, my brain quietly fills up with some low-fi and I reach over to throw my clock across the room to nicely but properly smash against the adjacent wall. After my momentary lapse in judgement - I had equated my alarm clock to a terrorist for half of a second - I tap the alarm off button and begin my 30 minute trip into half-sleep land.

During this period of pseudo-slumber, I am much more aware of my surroundings. Occasionally, if laundry day is around the corner, I begin to think about the chores I need to complete in the remaining hours of the day or which ones I will save for another day. Yet, most of the time, my mind focuses on the warmth of my bed and the comfort in knowing I get to sit here for 28 more minutes and not be worrying about what I have to get done. I can feel the pressure shift in my classy air mattress as I move my legs to find a cooler part of the blankets. My hands are generally tucked underneath my pillow beneath my head. I can hear the sounds of neighbors walking around, La Cucaracha blaring from the horn of a car in the parking lot outside, or the sound of nature just outside of my bedroom window. I try and remember what it was I was just dreaming about. I remember something about a stork, something about African children, and something about collagen-free lips - and shortly after I decide it must’ve been less than important and dream up some new fantasy, maybe this time with George Clooney.

As my 30 minutes of ponder and calm comes to a close, I begin to anticipate when the time will come. I peel open my left eye just enough to clearly read ‘8:27’ on the clock. “I’ve got another 3 minutes of this, and then I have to make cereal.” Suddenly, with the thought of ‘Oops! All Berries!’ Cap’n Crunch just a few short minutes away, I get excited for my time of solitude to be over so I can munch down an oversized bowl of cereal before I leave for the day.

‘8:29’. “It’s just under a minute now. Make these last few seconds really count.” So I close my eyes and recap all of my dreams. Big-lipped storks carrying George Clooney to Africa where babies are going to adopt him. Where did that dream come from?

Suddenly, I hear the rest of my Zero 7 song just where I last left it - as though the 30 minutes of time I spent feeling the warmth of my blankets and resting my brain, with the exception of my African Clooney dreams. It’s time for me to wake up and face the day, and now with the minutes spent calmly relaxing in bed falling further behind me as they progresses, I am able to wake up feeling refreshed and ready for the cereal goodness that is about to tantalize my tastebuds. I go through the day knowing that I spent 30 minutes of time on absolutely nothing. There needs to be time in the day where one can just not have to have a single worry, have a part of their life be a stress, have someone interrupt them, or have any form of variable annoyance. My 30 minutes I spend with myself in the morning is time spent on my own accord. I make no major decisions. I feel comfortable knowing that for that exact moment, I have complete control and clarity over exactly how I am feeling. It’s relieving to know that there is always a place you can just exist for yourself, and that all it takes is 30 minutes - come to think of it, 45 wouldn’t hurt either.

x.