I consider sleep quantity an essential part of a good weekend. That’s why this upcoming weekend is about to be the worst weekend of 2018.
Read sarcastically, “weekend.”
Sunday, March 11, is the beginning of daylight saving time. It’s time to set the clocks forward again.
Daylight saving time was not always a struggle for me, but when I started college, I changed from being an early bird to being a night owl. There are nights I wish I could pray for “consolation sleep” after lying awake in bed for hours. The reimbursement never comes.
With that being said, I actually consider myself quite the sleep expert.
What are my credentials, you ask? Well, I sleep almost every night; I once wrote a research paper on insomnia, and I occasionally read HuffPost articles at 3:30 a.m. about “The top five secrets to just falling asleep already.”
I’ve also occupied exactly 23 different mattresses since I first left home nearly six years ago, and one of those was actually just a glorified floor pad I slept on while interning in Salt Lake City last semester.
So naturally, being the sleep-deprived college student I am, I began investigating possible explanations for my sleeping problems and narrowed it down to three main culprits.
First: The fast-paced atmosphere and sporadic workload of college creates stress and anxiety that is difficult to disconnect from each night.
Second: The brightest street lamp known to humanity was erected outside my window.
Third: Of the eight mattresses I’ve slept on since beginning college seven semesters ago, zero of them have been comfortable.
And yes, that even includes the time my roommate moved out and I pushed the beds together end-to-end, perfectly fitting them lengthwise along one wall with not an inch to spare. That was, in my mind, the greatest marvel of engineering I’d ever constructed — easily surpassing the mousetrap car I built in high school physics. Sorry, Ms. Chitkowski.
The problem was, I could effortlessly remedy the first and second problems by organizing my time better and hanging a blanket over my window.
But when it came to the third problem, that grossly uncomfortable apartment-issued mattress, there was little I could do.
Granted, some students have no trouble sleeping on 10-year-old, pee-stained reminders of why I want to graduate someday, but for those of us who do have trouble sleeping on them, there are shockingly few solutions to this whole mattress conundrum. Not even my magnificent Bedtopia creation helped me sleep any better.
So, I came up with an idea.
All owners of BYU-Idaho approved student housing complexes, please pay attention. The following message has been written specifically for you:
Before you sell us on that two-story floor plan; before you sell us on that 50-inch HDTV; before you sell us on that promotional photo of the four freakishly happy millennial tenants all sitting together on the same outdoor lounge chair while staring at separate computer screens — I’m looking at you NorthPoint — please instead sell us on how comfortable your mattresses are.
With the clocks springing forward this weekend, a comfortable bed is really all we want.