The Champeenship!
On Monday, I went to bed at 4.
On Tuesday, I went to bed at 2.
On Wednesday, I went to bed at 1.
On Thursday, I made and refrigerated a batch of steel-cut oatmeal and tempeh. I have never been enthusiastic about tempeh, but I was led to believe it is packed with B vitamins, which I'm further told are a way to boost one's energy. I also burned a CD to wake up to, so that I wouldn't ignore my current rising theme, of which I am well past bored. I located a bottle of my emergency medicine; my heart's been tachycardia-free since February 2008, but if it tried anything funny I would be ready for it. Then I cleaned my work shoes for the first time in 1.5 years, and went to bed at midnight.

On Friday, I talked Dave & Buster's into letting me out of the party at 10:00. When I arrived at 7:00, it turned out they had goofed and the party did not start until 9:30. They sent me home, after buying me a disappointing meal. I took this as a sign that I was on the right path. I declined several social invitations, then went to bed at 10:30. At 11:00, my roommate began to watch a movie outside my bedroom, and I braved the awkwardness of being that guy who asks everybody to keep it down at 11:00 on a Friday night. Nothing would come between me and my eight hours.

On Saturday, my alarm sounded at 7 AM. I hit the ground stretching, and was fully awake by the end of the song. I shaved, showered, ate my pre-made breakfast, opened and de-pinned a brand new white button-down shirt, donned my nicest jeans and a pair of shoes now free of hamburger taint, and marched out the door.

When I saw that the Clark Street bus was not coming, I trekked southward to where Broadway Street sheds its independence and merges with Clark for a few miles. Along the way, my eyes were opened to the fact that I was awake at 7 in the morning, and for once I didn't hate the world because of it. I marvelled at the gorgeous sunny day, as I watched trucks unload their cargo and newspapers filling their dispensers. Life was beginning, and I was a part of it.

At last, I arrived at my strategic bus stop. Now I was putting my faith not in one bus, but two. And sure enough, the Broadway bus came and filled the shoes that the Clark bus had left empty. And that, friends, is how I made it to The Perennial fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

Finding the door locked, I wandered around the side of the building and strolled into an unmarked door to find myself in the kitchen. I stated my business, was greeted by a manager, and introduced to a server who would take responsibility for my growth. I hung my jacket in the locker room, and was handed a stack of soft fabric napkins to carry upstairs and begin rolling into neatly-bundled silverware sets.

...at which point the manager took me aside and told me the position had already been filled.

I left without a word. They'll never know how hard I trained for this. The only memory they have of my passing is seven silverware rolls of questionable craftsmanship.