You might think this would have taught me something about being up at 4am...

Friday night, I did not go out. I came home after rehearsal, completed my report and sat around my apartment with a couple of friends. I made a point of not going out because I had rehearsal at 10am, which meant a 9:00 call and an 8:05 wake up. I was ready for bed just before 2. I didn't even read or facebook stalk or turn on the tv. I did exactly what I was supposed to: turned everything off and got in bed in the dark.

Then I started hearing noises. It sounded like something tapping near the baseboard of the wall my room shares with the next appointment. I sat up. I heard a sort of squeaky noise near my closet. I listened for five minutes, then laid back down. I heard it again. I was up. I was standing in the middle of my bed. It took me, fearing in bed mice, 3 minutes to psych myself up to take one step forward on my comforter to the lamp. I got it on. I saw nothing. I thought I heard a sound again. I made some sort of guttural noises hoping to scare whatever was in my room away.

I'm still seeing nothing at this point, so I shake out all of my bedding and sit back down, tucking all loose fabric edges under me so as to be sure nothing could get in them with me. I turn the TV on, trying to make enough noise to scare any rodents out of the room. I finally convince myself to turn off the light and the tv after about 40 minutes of no sound. I start to get comfortable. Another squeak. At this point I text every boy I know. It's about 3:15 in the morning, so I obviously get no response. I leave the tv on through the informercial hour. I start texting all awake parties. I read webcomics I find through google. Anything to distract me enough to help me weather the storm. It's a no go. I ready 4:59 and I literally say to myself, outloud, "Bridget if you do not fall asleep right this second you will get less than 3 hours of sleep."

Then I wake up at 8:05 am lying tucked into my mouse fortress with a light on and the computer in my lap. The TV is off because I had the foresight to set the sleep function and in the light of day, the mouse, if there was one, is less threatening. I hopscotch to the shower, then rush to collect my belongings and leave for rehearsal. I spend the first hour or so of setup realizing slowly how absolutely ridiculous I was the night before. My apartment building comes pre-furnished with beds whose legs only reach the wall at the bottom. What I was listening was probably the guy next door passing out hard on his bed, jarring the wall at several points across the baseboard. The squeaks? Probably just my bed springs as I flailingly freak out.

Throughout rehearsal I'm getting texts from the various backup I tried to call throughout the night, ranging from:

"...I was very much asleep at 3:15am"

to

"I hope you survived the animal?"

to

"I'm not sure if you were referring to a real animal or Scott."

And the jig was up. I'm crazy and all my friends know it. ...Thanks, being exhausted to the point of humiliation.