A revelation was made into the extent to which the human body can go in order to satisfy its basest urges.

The venue: A classroom not far, far away..
The victims: Yours truly and his roommate

After a night of watching arbitrary crap on the computer which serves no purpose other than to reduce the unfortunate subjects to sleep-walking zombies during the day, me and my roommate hit our first class for the day: at 9 AM. The lecturer is not taking the class, he just sits among the students while one of us conducts a seminar. Today being the day of unfortunate justices, he chooses the empty spot on the bench, beside us. But does the stimulus of a teacher sitting next to us prevent us from recapturing the lost experiences of sleep? Not at all... he was the first to get caught, me having used him at the time to hide my sleep-craving self from the teacher's eyes. He was told to wash his face, and coming back, the betrayer decides to take me down with him by sitting in the other corner of the classroom. There is no one between me and the lecturer. Does that stop me? Really... be serious

In my laughing classsmates' words, I dozed my way to heavenly glory while he managed to keep himself up for the hour by laughing at the precious sight and trying to simili my incessant nodding to harmonic functions, and the quick-return mechanism of a mechanical crank. The honourable person seated next to me, was thankfully oblivious to his knocked out neighbour, and intently listening to the seminar.

More adventures await me in the coming days, I'm sure, but I wonder why danger is my companion after a good night's sleeplessness

The advantages and disadvatages of working under a looming deadline become apparent at the point where you find yourself with so many things to do in such a short while, that you start wondering where to begin, or just give it all up and write a blog about it. The second choice comes to me automatically, I must say, though the guilt of having a deadline whoosh by you is quite overwhelming. The brain, when bombarded with stimuli to the point where each task to be done seems like pixels in an interestingly pointillised artwork, resorts to curling up in a virtual foetal position, with the cerbrum tucked firmly between the two lobes of the medulla oblongata. This position, causes the mind to play repetitive hallucinations which pertain to shifting the tasks at hand to a later deadline. The acceptance to this solution causes the brain to revert back to its original position, hopefully with no haemorrhages, until the process repeats again at the next deadline. Trust me, I do it every single day.