"But wait," you ask. "What's Yakety Sax? What's the title mean?" We'll get to that, be patient.
Well, a few weeks ago, I had the perfect weekend. I finished all my school assignments early, I managed to snag a very rare and much sought after item in the game I'd been playing, there wasn't an ounce of drama to be found anywhere.
I have never been more paranoid in my entire life.
I spent the next week after that wondering when stuff was going to blow up and get crazy again.
Now, that's not to say that everyday after that was as perfect as that initial weekend had been, but it was pretty damn chill and that in and of itself was suspicious as all hell. Several of my classes over the next couple of weeks were canceled so was able to leave earlier or arrive later than usual and, in general, I just didn't have as much work. After a while, I sort of forgot to be paranoid.
And that's when it happened.
First, on the Saturday before Spring Break ended, I did not sleep. This was driven both a somewhat conscious choice ("It's already 8 am and you're not even remotely sleepy, you might as well stay up.") and the insomnia I've struggled with my whole life. How it happened doesn't really matter though, all that matters is that I didn't sleep for 36 hours and that I spent my entire last day of pure freedom feeling like I was going to die.
"Why not take a nap then?" You might ask.
To which I would have to respond, "That's adorable."
Had I taken a nap, I would not have slept again that night. I've had insomnia for over 20 years, I know how my body works. If I wanted to sleep that night before I started back to school, I absolutely had to stay awake the whole day. Needless to say, I felt like I was loosing my mind. As I went through the day, I felt like something was creeping up on me, almost as if I were hearing some sound closing in from far away.
Any way, that night, when I finally finished all the work I needed to do and allowed myself to pass out, I slept for almost 10 hours; more sleep than I have gotten in months (if not years). All warm, and snuggly, and content in my bed, I awoke to the sound of my mother.
"Grey, it's 10:30! Get up!"
It's about a half-hour drive from my house to my campus.
My first class of the day started at 11.
I'm not certain I've ever launched out of bed quite that quickly before.
Somehow, I managed to get dressed, inhale some breakfast, and bust ass out the door in time to make it to class only 5 to 7 minutes late. Phew. And as I sat down at my table, I heard that strange creeping sound again, a little closer this time, but still far enough away that I couldn't quite describe it.
So, today, I woke up around 11, lazed around in bed till noon, then got up and had a fairly sedate afternoon. My first class didn't start till 3:30 so I had plenty of time to get ready for the day.
We left the house around 3, at little late, but not too bad, if traffic was with us I'd probably make it to class right on time. Then I reach into my pocket and realize I don't have my phone.
Fuck.
So here's how it goes:
My mom pops a quick u-ey and we hustle back to the house where I search frantically for my phone and come up empty handed. Thoroughly confounded at this point, I poke my head out the front door and yell to my mom, still seated in the car, to please call my stupid phone.
"I did!" She shouts back, "I think I hear it in the car!"
..........What?
Back out to the car I go. Frustrated and confused, I yank open the passenger-side door and see my phone nestled securely in the space between the seat and the center console.
The time is now 3:20.
Double fuck.
I slipped into my class 15 minutes late, frustration and embarrassment written all over my face, and as I took my seat, I heard that creeping sound again. Only this time it wasn't creeping, it was loud and clear, and it was laughing at me.
"Oh, right," I thought, staring blankly at the wall as the theme song to my very being blared into my mind. "This is my life."
