Round 2

This afternoon, as I got back to my apartment from class, I was debating with myself whether or not I should go to work. Having been a bit under the weather as of late I was inclined to stay home and take a nap. However, with March on the near horizon and realizing the need to pay my rent before management started breathing down my neck, I resigned myself to the proposition of returning to the BYU grounds to once again to pay my daily homage to Mother Earth.
As I arrived at the shed, I could see from the look in Edwin's eye that today would be yet another day filled with menial tasks worthy of perhaps half an hour of my time, but which I would be asked to stretch out to fill two hours. But such is life and I am well capable of doing so.
The work which I was asked to do today was a bit of a heterogeneous mixture of odd jobs. I was asked to go to the entrance of the Smith Fieldhouse to pick up a cement column that had fallen down, to clean out gutters and drains for a bit, and, if there was time left over, which there was, I was to, once again, retrieve the rubbish left behind by careless students in their hurry to class.
I considered the pillar job to be that which would require the most of my blatant brawn and highly toned figure. Upon realizing that there would be quite a large crowd to witness this feat of strength that I was about to perform, I decided to do it first.
As I approached the cement pillar in question, I realized what I was up against. And quite frankly, I was dismayed. Though proud of my burly self, I am well aware of my own limits and this pillar seemed to be well outside of them. Standing nearly four feet tall (when erect) and a good 18 inches square at the base, this concrete monster defied me. It must have weighed 200-250 lbs easy. I could see it leering at me with its yellow teeth showing through a crooked smile. It was as if it was daring me to try and lift it; daring me to make a fool of myself in front of the passers by.
Well I'm not one to back down to a challenge like that, so I squatted down, somehow managed to mash my gloved fingers underneath its broad side and prepared myself to lift. As I did so I heard a voice behind me say, "You'll have to be a lot younger and stronger to be able to lift that up." Thirsting to prove the cynical observer wrong I exploded with my legs and held on desperately with my hands to lift this concrete behemoth. I raised to nearly a 45 degree angle with the ground when my grip gave out and the beast went crashing triumphantly to the ground. As it did I glanced around at the vocal bystander from a moment ago and was shocked by what, or rather who, I saw.
It was none other than the man who made Bronco Mendenhall's job one worthy of notoriety and respect. That's right, the one and only Lavell Edwards.
As I tried not to stare, and wondered wildly to myself what I should do now, he smiled and said, "That was better than I expected from a wiry kid like yourself." To which I could only reply, "Thanks coach." He smiled yet again, climbed into his Toyota 4Runner and drove away.
As I stood there in a stunned silence, a moving guy who had witnessed the whole scene, came up to me and offered to help me pick up the pillar. Distractedly I assented and we lifted the pillar back up to its original position. As I thanked the young man, I couldn't help but to reflect back on what I had just experienced. I had yet again gained approval in the eyes of one of my heroes. This would truly be a day remembered.

meh

Ha I just remembered something. Back in the day I was trying to come up with a new nickname to make Heather mad with. First I thought "Heath", it being short for Heather. Then I realized that Heath, while it could be pronounced H-eh-th, was usually pronounced H-ee-th, which was also a candy bar. So I then thought of chocolate. Following the same pattern as before I shortened chocolate to "choc". I then decided that was enough and stuck with choc. It never did stick really, but I do remember a few choice incidents in which I delivered this moniker at just the right moment and Heather was instantly incensed with me. Ah the good ol' days. I suppose I probably deserved getting that bat to the face sometimes...But you can't blame a three year old kid for not knowing that the catcher was supposed to stand further away from the batter now can you?

Narcolepsy

Main Entry: nar·co·lep·sy

Pronunciation: \ˈnär-kə-ˌlep-sē\

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural nar·co·lep·sies

Etymology: International Scientific Vocabulary

Date: 1880

: a condition characterized by brief attacks of deep sleep often occurring with cataplexy and hypnagogic hallucinations

(www.m-w.com)

As far as I know I do not have narcolepsy. I am very good at falling asleep wherever I am and in whatever position I may be situated, but I do not think that I am narcoleptic. (Mostly because I don't know what cataplexy means. If I were to guess I'd divide the word up into "cat" and "plexy" and go from there. A cat is a small furry animal with a tail and bad humor. Plexy brings to mind the words plexiglass and pleather. I don't think that I am small nor furry and I feel that I am of a good-humored nature. And clearly I am not a clear sheet of unshatterable plastic. Um...I'll just skip the pleather part.)
Anyway, I bring this up because lately I have been increasingly unable to stay awake in situations where such is the socially acceptable status. A few examples are during classes, watching movies and eating dinner (true story). Of late this has become increasingly uncomfortable for myself and others. Just last week I was in my Astronomy class and the girl sitting next to me nudged me to wake me up because I was breathing so loudly. She did so laughingly while I quietly apologized. And within minutes I was out cold once again. (I must put a disclaimer on my falling asleep in Astronomy. I have the class at 1:00pm on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and it is my fifth class in a row of the day. Not only that but we attend class in the Planetarium where the seats are ever so comfortable and the powerpoint presentations, which only increase the slumberous atmosphere in the room, are broadcast onto the ceiling so we have to sit back in our chairs to see them. Then, when the professor turns off all the lights and turns on the stars, my stupor reaches near comatose.)
It seems that once I am asleep, I'm deep asleep and I immediately enter the dream stage. This can be quite adventuresome in classes such as the History of Jazz and Calculus because my mind goes crazy and creates the most interesting situations and plot lines using the things that the professors are saying. I've never thought of Calculus as a super engaging and enterprising topic, but when the subject is put into the overactive imagination of a sleepy student, the most amazing things happen. Unfortunately I'm unable to remember any specifics, but I can say that more than once I've started awake with my heart racing and wondering what will happen to that poor function when it's taken to and analyzed at its limits.
As for movies, I don't know that I've watched a movie to the end for a month or so now. A few movies that I've started and continue to be in a state of suspense over having not seen the ends to are; The Rundown, Ratatouille, Phantom of the Opera, Stardust, Nacho Libre, The Illusionist, Masters of the Universe (Good ol' Heman), and Martian Child. The problem is, everyone else has seen the ends to these movies and therefore don't want to watch them again, and I'm stuck wondering if the Rock ever finds the rich mans son and whatever becomes of the cooking rat and how, if at all, Christine escapes from the Phantom. It's frustrating.
In short it seems that every time I sit down, or even if I just stand comfortably, I fall asleep. I wish it weren't so, but such is my unenviable state at the time.
Meh. It's not so bad. At least I don't snore in class...yet.