Me: Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I have once again fallen asleep during another artist's performance.
Someone else: I am not your father.
Darth Vader: I am your father.
Me: Why is Darth Vader here?
Someone else: Darth Vader, shut up. This is my moment.
Darth Vader: Sorry.
[Insert thunderous audience applause here.]
Yes, I fell asleep in a show last night. In my defense, it was a 10pm show that ran until 11:15pm. In my offense, I knew I was going to the show since the middle of the day yesterday and I had made plans to be able to enjoy it as much as possible. What do I mean by that vague sentence? Watch out, I am about to share some very personal health information with you.
I have cinematic and theatrical induced narcolepsy.
I fall asleep in theatres.
I also fall asleep in theaters.
I know millions of people are affected by this disease. Even more go undiagnosed.
I cope very well with my theatrical sleepiness: I avoid boring shows, and shows that are too long (ideal show length 90 mins, two hours is OK, anything more and I will know I will take a nap). But even then, sometimes it will over power me.
Like last night. I was really excited to go see Obsessed with Joesph Scrimshaw. Which is a super fun show that interviews funny people about what they are obsessed about (wow, Heather did you really need to explain that, it seems like the title Obsessed is pretty clear. Shut up self). The show is also recorded as a podcast and that is cool and all sorts of things. Knowing it was a 10pm show, my caffeine sensitive self had a chai tea at 6:30pm. I know most of you are thinking "one tea? that's not going to keep you awake." But it will, I don't drink a lot of caffeine. Not because of some self-important wooptity-woo but because if you met me in person, you will understand that I am a high-functioning spaz, that seems like she is just naturally jacked up on caffeine. But I am not, because caffeine has a huge affect on me, I get tense and strung out and my face changes. What? Yes, people can tell if I have been drinking because of my face, the 11 wrinkles between my eyebrows show up and I look like my face is an inch lower. I also can't sleep, ever with caffeine in me. So me choosing to have caffeine last night was like Voldemort drinking the unicorn blood; it will keep be awake but it will be a half-life. So I drank my unicorn blood and was ready for the show.
The show was great! I laughed, I giggled. I learned. Then 10:50pm hit, and it was like my eyes turned into angry robots bent on conquering the globes of my eyes. But it wasn't because the show was not exciting. Santa Claus was being interviewed! Santa Claus! I wanted to make sure Santa knew I was at the show he was in so that he would think I was extra good this year and bring me a juicer. But my eye lids! The weakest skin on my whole body was now the strongest. I couldn't stop them from falling down. At one point I physically held them up to see if that would make them stay in place. I drifting in an out of sentences of Joe Scrimshaw and his guest Santa Claus. But I never slumbered in the sense where I curled up pulled my coat up over to my chin and tiptoed through the tulips to dream land. No, it was want happened sometimes when people drive at night, the nodding off factor. (Don't fall asleep while driving! Pull over, go to a sleeping place [it's called a hotel, Heather], get some coffee, jump up and down, don't sleep and drive.)
But nope, for ten minutes in the show I was at war with my eyelids. My mind was trying to follow the conversation but my eyes were being stupid party poopers. Eyelids vs. Heather the battle of the century. I would hear the first three words of a sentence and then the last two. But not have caught the middle. It was the briefest of black magic. My eyelids were taunting me but not letting me hear the middle of sentences. Eyelids! The middle of sentences is the best part!
But, then. It was like nothing had ever happened. I was awake. And the show was over. No! Cruel irony! How do you do this to me? On my way out I congratulated Joe on his show and apologized for falling asleep for the smallest of moments. Which had I not said anything no one would have every known. But my way of dealing with potentially embarrassing awkward moments is to be the one that makes them awkward first. Like Lyndon Johnson and his meetings in the bathroom. Good work self, way to tell the world about your sleeping disease.
The irony is of course, as soon as I got home I couldn't fall asleep until 4am.
Also: You can download the Obsessed podcasts here and listen for my soft secret sleepiness while laughing and funny dudes.