I’m engaged in an ongoing war against sleep. I say war, but it’s really quite a complex relationship, because I wouldn’t say that I dislike sleep. It’s really very pleasant. What I dislike – what I detest, even – is that I have to sleep, and that I do sleep, often. There are people who function on 3 or 4 hours of sleep a night. I am not one of them. I get 8 or 9 hours every night, but then come afternoon, in class or while reading book, my vision drops out of focus a little bit. I keep staring, my eyes keep moving down the page, but I’m thinking of other things. I jerk myself back into it, but in another couple of minutes…I lose focus…I’m not yet aware I’ve lost focus…and my thoughts are strange – more dreamlike than like thoughts – and my eyelids start…to…droop. I snap back in a few more times, but it’s a nearly unwinnable struggle. It saps my time, it puts a damper on much of the productive time I do have. Sleep is my worst enemy. Not that I have many.