I suspect my brain likes to play nasty tricks on me. During the 3 years I worked at call centers, I became very conscious of the time of the day because our shifts were strictly monitored. I had to be logged on to the phone by an exact time. I remember there was a month when I had little sleep and suddenly I no longer heard the alarm clock. It felt like my brain was telling me, “Either you give me enough hours to sleep, or I won’t let you wake up in time.”
Now I’m at a different job, much less strict in matters of shift hours, but still I carry the sense that arriving late is shameful. Now my brain’s favorite prank is to spontaneously make me wake up in the early morning. At that moment I’ve no idea whether I really heard the alarm clock or I overslept, so I look for the clock nervously, and it turns out it’s 4:58 AM. My alarm clock is set for 5:00 AM. I get angry at my brain for making me worry unnecessarily. It has done this to me at least a dozen times in the past couple months.
I suspect my brain likes to play nasty tricks on me. During the 3 years I worked at call centers, I became very conscious of the time of the day because our shifts were strictly monitored. I had to be logged on to the phone by an exact time. I remember there was a month when I had little sleep and suddenly I no longer heard the alarm clock. It felt like my brain was telling me, “Either you give me enough hours to sleep, or I won’t let you wake up in time.”
Now I’m at a different job, much less strict in matters of shift hours, but still I carry the sense that arriving late is shameful. Now my brain’s favorite prank is to spontaneously make me wake up in the early morning. At that moment I’ve no idea whether I really heard the alarm clock or I overslept, so I look for the clock nervously, and it turns out it’s 4:58 AM. My alarm clock is set for 5:00 AM. I get angry at my brain for making me worry unnecessarily. It has done this to me at least a dozen times in the past couple months.