By Lindsey Rothering —

[“Lindsey Tries” documents the misadventures of a 22-year-old with unwavering night owl tendencies.]

Remember when you were little and hated nap time, and now you debate on a weekly basis if you should start an online petition to legally mandate nap time for college students? No, just me? Oh.

This week, I decided to change all of that. Between 8 a.m. classes and unwavering night owl tendencies, I was tired of being tired. My course schedule doesn’t allow for a nap, so I decided to hit the hay a few hours earlier.

Crawling into bed, I was so convinced that getting more sleep would leave me completely refreshed and maybe not even be in need of coffee—and I was right! I woke up feeling great. But that’s where it all started to go downhill.

Waking up without hitting the snooze button left me with so much time that I ended up changing my outfit four times and making two cups of coffee to have a side-by-side comparison of brew strength, just for fun.

I arrived at my art history class approximately 11 minutes early, a record for me. So few students had arrived that I almost started getting anxiety. What do the other kids do with all this extra time? Are they looking at me? Is my hair okay? Should I have chosen another shirt?

Once class ended, I decided to reward myself with a fancy fast food breakfast. Burger King has better iced coffee but McDonald’s has awesome biscuits, so I decided on both places (I’m a fatty, okay?). Since I was not about to bring a BK cup into a McDonald’s, I chugged it on the way and started thinking that drinking a large iced coffee on an empty stomach wasn’t the smartest idea. I dizzily ordered two hash browns and one sausage biscuit, because it was the cheapest biscuit-themed item and in my overactive mental state I thought asking, “Can I get one plain biscuit, please?” was too much work.

Hearing an employee holler “Two sausage biscuits!” had me flailing towards the counter so fast my brain hadn’t realized my mistake until I was outside: That was not my order. Going back inside seemed far too embarrassing—really, who grabs someone else’s food? I ended up skulking in the driver’s seat and mourning my orphaned hash browns.

After an intensive internal debate about going to bed earlier (Pro: enough time to get ready. Con: accidental food theft), I decided it’s just not for me. You’re welcome, McDonald’s customers.


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