Sleep

As my classes have finally started, I have been struggling to adjust to the sleep schedule required to feel energetic throughout the day. A few days ago, for example, I woke up after a night of drinking feeling so congested that I remained in the flat for almost the entire day, declining the invitation to go out that night. This was Saturday. On Sunday, after having slept for many, many glorious hours, I woke up feeling a bit better. That night I planned on staying in again, but felt so lonely that I forced myself to go out, hoping to drink a couple cocktails, dance a bit, and come home around 1 or 2 a.m. Not to mention I have generally been staying in when everyone else has been going out, and honestly I have missed out on quite a bit of fun. Well. I did drink a few cocktails, strawberry Mohitos to be specific (which were amazing), at a very relaxed bar with candlelit tables, where I talked and talked to other Erasmus students about the reality of living in America. Of course they were all so shocked to find out how much American students have to pay for college (or rather that they have to pay at all), and also sympathized with my political apathy and frustration. All in all, I was having a decent time, but was growing tired. I agreed to walk home with one of my American friends, under the assumption that we'd be headed home relatively soon. Then the plans changed, we were going to another club, and I decided to go despite being exhausted because a) I didn't want to be the one walking home alone and b) I was really curious about this particular club. The place was empty, as it was a Sunday night, and quite tacky, but in a sort of  charming way I suppose. I'd definitely like to go back on a more crowded night, and when I'm feeling less tired. I entered the dance floor once that night, where I remember singing "We Are the Champions" at the top of my lungs with a group of Polish girls and my American friends, slinging my beer around in a state of momentary ecstasy. But this was the only moment. We finally left the place as the sun began illuminating the night sky, and by the time I got home it was, for the majority of Krakow's citizens, already a bright new mundane Monday morning. People were on the trams, on their way to a new workday, and I was exhausted, cold, sober, and had to pee probably the most badly I've had to pee in years. Somehow, everyone else has managed to stay out until 7, 8, even 9 a.m. several times since we've been here, but I simply cannot do it. 

Yesterday, after sleeping for only an hour or so, I went to my morning class feeling miserable. Between classes I went to pick up a roll of film, only to find that none of the pictures had turned out. When I came home, I diddled on the Internet instead of taking a nap, stupidly, and then went out to eat a quick bowl of tomato soup with a friend before my second class. The tomato soup here, luckily, tastes almost exactly the same as the tomato soup my Babci has been cooking for me since I could remember (except, of course, it's still not quite as good as hers). One strange cultural difference I've noticed is that Poles seem to eat so much more than I could ever possibly eat in one sitting, while drinking a small glass of juice or water, or even nothing at all. Are they not thirsty? Are they not dehydrated? I can't manage eating a full meal without anything to drink, and if I do have something to drink, I gulp it down. I need to practice simply sipping. But more importantly, I need to somehow attempt to maintain a regular sleep schedule. On second thought, nah. If I never stayed up late I could never really talk to my love, or my friends back home, and that alone will kill me before any sort of sleep deprivation could.