Dear lost slumber

Nov. 29, 2018, 1:16 a.m.

To my long lost lover:

Though I’ve foolishly replaced you with Stern Dining cappuccinos and Market at Munger energy drinks, I still love you like a love song baby. Romeo and Juliet, Chuck and Blair or even the infamous Jack and Rose cannot hold a candle to our forbidden love.

Let’s talk about sleep, baby. Let’s talk about you and me. Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be.

You graciously spoiled me through my brace-faced teenage years. More recently, though, I have struggled to spend more than six successful hours in your beloved company. I divulge that in this time apart from you I have been a wee bit disloyal, beguiled by the seductive bait of nearly overdue problem sets, witty repartee with dormmates (platonically, of course) and Late Night’s mesmerizing mozzarella sticks. But please believe me when I say that no amount of cheesy-fried goodness can fill the aching emptiness I feel as I neglect you. I swear, even when I am basking in the presence of others, I am thinking about you the whole time.

I am sorry that it has become exceedingly difficult to leave room for you whilst maintaining the typical Stanford student load: a modest 22-unit quarter, my exhausting daily three-miles-per-hour jogs on Farrillaga’s treadmills and of course, my internship application process focused solely on companies with minuscule acceptance rates. (Exclusivity and elitism are key). 

Please know that I constantly think of us intertwining elegantly in the law library lounge, in the still silence of the Bender Room in Green Library and on Meyer Green as the sun’s warmth nudges me into your embrace.

It isn’t our just nifty naps though. I miss our long, undisturbed nights together. You always found a soothing, sensuous way to gently make my eyes shut, my body limp and my mind free of thoughts of CS. (Although I swear one time I coded in my sleep, so Google if you’re looking to hire a grossly under-qualified frosh slide into my email cited below).

At this moment, I am left with a singular choice: to savor our fleeting moments of outward affection, where you take me into your open, alluring arms and then abruptly desert me. Alas, even with all my valiant attempts, you are elusive when I need you the most. 

Oh my lost slumber, you do not have to say it. I know things have gone downhill since I limited our engagements to strictly timed 13-minute naps. I used to be an animal in bed like a koala in the forest: I could be with you for nearly 20 hours per day without a single interruption. I swear we will rekindle that fierce flame with unparalleled fortitude. Like Justin Timberlake, I’m bringing sexy back, but this time with my unicorn onesie and bedtime peppermint tea.

As we roll into finals week, please know that we will find love in a hopeless place soon.

Warmest regards,

A stressed, sleep-deprived spirit 

Contact Alanna Flores at alanna13 ‘at’

Alanna Flores '22 is a Managing Editor of The Grind. Contact her at alanna13 'at'

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