I miss you. I miss the hours in the afternoon and the long nights we used to spend together. I miss us.

No, I’m not speaking to some long lost love. I’m pleading with sleep, which I miss profusely. I miss it with the intensity that I assume frat guys will miss wearing those obnoxiously colored shorts once winter arrives — who am I kidding, they’re never going to give up on those shorts.

For some reason I don’t remember midterms being like this last year. I’m not sure if I just blocked it out due to the trauma, but this year is way more intense. And the Internet validated my darkest fears.

By referencing an article about mental health on howstuffworks.com, I officially diagnosed myself as sleep deprived. And why shouldn’t I believe it? Nothing on the Internet is false, right?

One of the top signs of sleep deprivation, the article stated, is experiencing mood swings. Now, having gone through puberty, I am well aware of what a mood swing is. And while there haven’t been any “Marley & Me” level tears throughout the course of midterms week, I have, on more than one occasion, felt like I needed to lock myself in my room and let the sounds of Green Day take me away.

The article states that another sign of sleep deprivation is irrational behavior: also, check.

I’m usually an irrational man to begin with, but my sleep deprivation has increased this irrationality tenfold. For example, during this past week I kept finding apple cores in the sink of my dorm. Sleep-deprived me thought it was a completely rational idea to save all of these apple cores with the intention of leaving a revenge bushel of them at the culprit’s door.

The story goes on to say that another sign of sleep deprivation is an increased appetite. Seeing as I have the diet and appetite of a pregnant woman, I didn’t expect this to apply to me. I mean, how could I eat more than I already do?

Upon reflection, things came into focus, and yeah, I’m sad to report that the diagnosis is true. Things had worsened. As usual, I was stuffing my face with Burger King.

Upon pulling out my burger from the brown bag, all of the contents slipped out. Usually I would say such is life and move on with the rest of my meal. But I was determined and ravenous.

I wrapped my fries in that wayward slab of meat and went to town.

Now, in case you’ve never done this, let me tell you right now that while all of the ingredients seem enticing apart, they form a hellish sense of sadness when mixed.

As I kept scrolling through the article on sleep deprivation, I came across another sign of the medical condition: “Relationship Trouble.”

That made me laugh. Because honestly, who doesn’t want a relationship with a crazy, moody burger-taco eater, am I right ladies?

Midterms week definitely gives you some perspective. The lack of sleep is staggering and the Internet exclaiming your death can be jarring. But literally everybody is going through the same thing. If one of us can survive, we all can.

Christian Unkenholz is a sophomore public relations and political science major. He can be found in Bird Library, which may function as his tomb as well. His column appears every Thursday in Pulp. He can be reached at [email protected].

Published on October 24, 2013 at 12:27 am