Projector Alarm Clock

Posts Tagged ‘sleep’

I often go to bed pretty late, but on average I get about 7 hours of sleep. When I have to get up in the morning, I always have trouble, no matter how motivated I am. Does anybody know any good tips for getting out of bed? I even tried setting an alarm clock with a disk that flies into the air, when the alarm sounds, you have to go catch/find the disk. This worked for a few months, then I just got so used to the alarm sound, I just slept through it!

It from my original story. I have no ideas for the title. Any suggestions? How does it sound? Is it too depressing? Or too much description? Or maybe too little? Just give me some feedback! (Please note that Nicholas, the main character, is eleven years old) Thanks! Here goes:

I don’t know how I was supposed to survive living. But they expected me to. They expected me to be a good little girl, never complain, never ask questions. But that didn’t work out. True, I didn’t complain much. At least I was alive, right? I suppose I was a mistake. It was worthless, my life, what was there to live for? Well, except for school. I couldn’t wait. Well I could, I was raised to wait. To be patient with my parents. With the crappy things I had. At least I had Keith, but Keith didn’t talk much. Poor, shy kid. He’d been raised the same way. We both had scars to how what we’d been through. I had more than him, considering I was older. I think they enjoyed torturing me, they found their “mistake” enjoyable, because they had Keith, and they never called him a mistake. They knew he wasn’t exactly an angel either, but he was as close to an angel as a seven-year-old could get.

I curled around the blankets of my bed, and rolled over, so I was completely wrapped like a burrito, to look at my alarm clock. It’s clear, blue light read that it was near three in the morning. I looked around the room, and titled my head to one side to listen carefully, but it wasn’t exactly something I couldn’t hear otherwise. They were still shouting. They’d started around dinner, and I figured soon they’d be drunk enough to either pass out or stumble to bed. After that, I could relax and finally sleep.

I could hear things shattering, and I decided it was either now or never to go comfort Keith, who I could now hear crying. I unwrapped myself and let my feet dangle off the side of my bed. At least I had a bed. I’d gotten it from Auntie Cecil. I dropped to the floor noiselessly, and I shivered as my feet touched the bare, cold floor. I recovered quickly, however, and padded across the hall to my brothers room. I entered into the shadows, and noticed his shivering form through the darkness. His eyes were closed, but I could tell he wasn’t by the way he was breathing.

“Keith?” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Shush, Nikki,” he replied, waving a small hand at me. I smiled as I realized what he was doing. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and his mouth was twitching between a smile and a frown. He was wishing the bad things away. A trick Aunt Cecil had taught us before she died.

“Close your eyes, and wish them away. Let them fly from your head. Let your mind be at peace. Don’t let anything disrupt you,” were her exact words. Keith and I loved Aunt Cecil, and as far as we knew, she was the most beautiful person on Earth. Her red hair cascaded down her back, and when she moved, it looked the sunrise atop her sculpted face. Her brown eyes were like looking into a golden sea of light, always twinkling like a star, and her smile was indescribable. When she smiled, every single problem would melt away, and it was like you were in your own little world. Nothing could get in your way. But that’s not what we thought made her the best person, we agreed it was her heart. She always had a person’s best interests in mind. Even her dying words were, “Nicholas, honey, don’t let anything get you down. Spread your wings and fly.” And she called me Bandit, a nickname I love. She gave it to me because she said I reminded her of a fox, my auburn hair, my quickness, and the way I could stick up for myself. She said I didn’t need Keith. She said I only stayed with him, without running away, was because he needed me. I figured that was true.

So how was it? Thank you! I’m eleven, using my sister’s account, so please don’t be too harsh

It from my original story. I have no ideas for the title. Any suggestions? How does it sound? Is it too depressing? Or too much description? Or maybe too little? Just give me some feedback! (Please note that Nicholas, the main character, is eleven years old) Thanks! Here goes:

I don’t know how I was supposed to survive living. But they expected me to. They expected me to be a good little girl, never complain, never ask questions. But that didn’t work out. True, I didn’t complain much. At least I was alive, right? I suppose I was a mistake. It was worthless, my life, what was there to live for? Well, except for school. I couldn’t wait. Well I could, I was raised to wait. To be patient with my parents. With the crappy things I had. At least I had Keith, but Keith didn’t talk much. Poor, shy kid. He’d been raised the same way. We both had scars to how what we’d been through. I had more than him, considering I was older. I think they enjoyed torturing me, they found their “mistake” enjoyable, because they had Keith, and they never called him a mistake. They knew he wasn’t exactly an angel either, but he was as close to an angel as a seven-year-old could get.

I curled around the blankets of my bed, and rolled over, so I was completely wrapped like a burrito, to look at my alarm clock. It’s clear, blue light read that it was near three in the morning. I looked around the room, and titled my head to one side to listen carefully, but it wasn’t exactly something I couldn’t hear otherwise. They were still shouting. They’d started around dinner, and I figured soon they’d be drunk enough to either pass out or stumble to bed. After that, I could relax and finally sleep.

I could hear things shattering, and I decided it was either now or never to go comfort Keith, who I could now hear crying. I unwrapped myself and let my feet dangle off the side of my bed. At least I had a bed. I’d gotten it from Auntie Cecil. I dropped to the floor noiselessly, and I shivered as my feet touched the bare, cold floor. I recovered quickly, however, and padded across the hall to my brothers room. I entered into the shadows, and noticed his shivering form through the darkness. His eyes were closed, but I could tell he wasn’t by the way he was breathing.

“Keith?” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Shush, Nikki,” he replied, waving a small hand at me. I smiled as I realized what he was doing. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and his mouth was twitching between a smile and a frown. He was wishing the bad things away. A trick Aunt Cecil had taught us before she died.

“Close your eyes, and wish them away. Let them fly from your head. Let your mind be at peace. Don’t let anything disrupt you,” were her exact words. Keith and I loved Aunt Cecil, and as far as we knew, she was the most beautiful person on Earth. Her red hair cascaded down her back, and when she moved, it looked the sunrise atop her sculpted face. Her brown eyes were like looking into a golden sea of light, always twinkling like a star, and her smile was indescribable. When she smiled, every single problem would melt away, and it was like you were in your own little world. Nothing could get in your way. But that’s not what we thought made her the best person, we agreed it was her heart. She always had a person’s best interests in mind. Even her dying words were, “Nicholas, honey, don’t let anything get you down. Spread your wings and fly.” And she called me Bandit, a nickname I love. She gave it to me because she said I reminded her of a fox, my auburn hair, my quickness, and the way I could stick up for myself. She said I didn’t need Keith. She said I only stayed with him, without running away, was because he needed me. I figured that was true.

So how was it? Thank you! I’m eleven, using my sister’s account, so please don’t be too harsh

It from my original story. And I have no idea what to call it. Any suggestions? How does it sound? Is it too depressing? Or too much description? Or maybe too little? Just give me some feedback! (Please note that Nicholas, the main character, is eleven years old) Thanks! Here goes:

I don’t know how I was supposed to survive living. But they expected me to. They expected me to be a good little girl, never complain, never ask questions. But that didn’t work out. True, I didn’t complain much. At least I was alive, right? I suppose I was a mistake. It was worthless, my life, what was there to live for? Well, except for school. I couldn’t wait. Well I could, I was raised to wait. To be patient with my parents. With the crappy things I had. At least I had Keith, but Keith didn’t talk much. Poor, shy kid. He’d been raised the same way. We both had scars to how what we’d been through. I had more than him, considering I was older. I think they enjoyed torturing me, they found their “mistake” enjoyable, because they had Keith, and they never called him a mistake. They knew he wasn’t exactly an angel either, but he was as close to an angel as a seven-year-old could get.

I curled around the blankets of my bed, and rolled over, so I was completely wrapped like a burrito, to look at my alarm clock. It’s clear, blue light read that it was near three in the morning. I looked around the room, and cocked my head to listen carefully, but it wasn’t exactly something I couldn’t hear otherwise. They were still shouting. They’d started around dinner, and I figured soon they’d be drunk enough to either pass out or stumble to bed. After that, I could relax and finally sleep.

I could hear things shattering, and I decided it was either now or never to go comfort Keith, who I could now hear crying. I unwrapped myself and let my feet dangle off the side of my bed. At least I had a bed. I’d gotten it from Auntie Cecil. I dropped to the floor noiselessly, and I shivered as my feet touched the bare, cold floor. I recovered quickly, however, and padded across the hall to my brothers room. I entered into the shadows, and noticed his shivering form through the darkness. His eyes were closed, but I could tell he wasn’t by the way he was breathing.

“Keith?” I whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Shush, Nikki,” he replied, waving a small hand at me. I smiled as I realized what he was doing. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and his mouth was twitching between a smile and a frown. He was wishing the bad things away. A trick Aunt Cecil had taught us before she died.

“Close your eyes, and wish them away. Let them fly from your head. Let your mind be at peace. Don’t let anything disrupt you,” were her exact words. Keith and I loved Aunt Cecil, and as far as we knew, she was the most beautiful person on Earth. Her red hair cascaded down her back, and when she moved, it looked the sunrise atop her sculpted face. Her brown eyes were like looking into a golden sea of light, always twinkling like a star, and her smile was indescribable. When she smiled, every single problem would melt away, and it was like you were in your own little world. Nothing could get in your way. But that’s not what we thought made her the best person, we agreed it was her heart. She always had a person’s best interests in mind. Even her dying words were, “Nicholas, honey, don’t let anything get you down. Spread your wings and fly.” And she called me Bandit, a nickname I love. She gave it to me because she said I reminded her of a fox, my auburn hair, my quickness, and the way I could stick up for myself. She said I didn’t need Keith. She said I only stayed with him, without running away, was because he needed me. I figured that was true.

So how was it? Thank you! I’m eleven, using my sister’s account, so please don’t be too harsh

My bird is named suzie we have had her fore about 5 years.three days ago i put her in my old room to look out the window while i wash the cage. i kept checking cause it didnt feel right so soon as i came back she went crazy and flew around the room as if she saw something . she had her mouth open like she was really hot. so i put her front the ac just awhile. ever since then she wont speak havent seen her drink water i usually do. she eats and grooms. close her eyes and sleep.are keep em shut and moving. she’s alittle fluffed. doesnt poop much. weak and now un balanced. idk if its anxiety or what she loves to be vocal like our alarm clock but she hasnt said one sqwak or nothing.please help i know i might lose this bird.i just dnt understand why she wags her tail time to time and gets fluffed and shakes as if she’s happy idk if she just faking it. idk what to do.

i think she might have heavy metal poisoning from zinc or something or had a stroke.she not drinking to mush water and her eating has picked up alot. she’s not drinking water.the cage disinfected appriciate the advise on a vet but i have no money IT NOTHING I CAN DO I TRIED(hurts me more than anything). so is there anything else i can try medicine . Tank you thankyou!
thank you!very much for this info.
there’s no avaian vet in my city can you believe that.well like no more faith.and im fighting for her. emailing everything any specialist i can find. nobody is replying….im tyring to stop crying nd just let her go.must suck for her to not be herself no longer.sad it all about the money these days i guess,.

Ooooft I am angry-.-
I have so much trouble getting up in the morning and it’s got to the point where I don’t know what to do.
I have approx 8 hours sleep which I find is enough, and don’t tell me I need more because I have tried having more sleep and it doesn’t work.
I don’t have trouble getting to sleep so that’s not a problem.
The thing is… when I wake up to my alarm, I go straight back to sleep.

My failed technique:

Setting 8 alarms in the morning, on the opposite side of the room,
Eating an energy tablet and chewing gum in the morning(i thought the strength of the smell of the minty chewing gum should wake me up)
Waking up and getting my headphones and blasting loud music(works, but I don’t remember to do it, i just go back to sleep-.-)
Jumping straight in the shower(it would work but I don’t do it I just fall straight back asleep)
Purchasing a flying alarm clock(as soon as I turn it off I get back into bed)
Setting my alarm a little later

I have tried more things but I can’t list them all..

So… how do I get myself up? I end up missing the bus every day because I have woken up late… i have nothing left to do! Please help 10 points!xoxoxoxoxo
Yes I am getting up to turn it off, but then I get straight back into bed:(
My alarm clock is extremely loud and annoying, but It doesn’t wake me up enough and I jump back into bed.
And I do set alarms 2 minutes in between each, but I just keep turning them off!
Thank you for all the amazing answers- but Paul, that is the best answer so far <3

My bird is named suzie we have had her fore about 5 years.three days ago i put her in my old room to look out the window while i wash the cage. i kept checking cause it didnt feel right so soon as i came back she went crazy and flew around the room as if she saw something . she had her mouth open like she was really hot. so i put her front the ac just awhile. ever since then she wont speak havent seen her drink water i usually do. she eats and grooms. close her eyes and sleep.are keep em shut and moving. she’s alittle fluffed. doesnt poop much. weak and now un balanced. idk if its anxiety or what she loves to be vocal like our alarm clock but she hasnt said one sqwak or nothing.please help i know i might lose this bird.i just dnt understand why she wags her tail time to time and gets fluffed and shakes as if she’s happy idk if she just faking it. idk what to do.
thanks for the replys i just scared hate losing her. and i just lost my rabbit in like march this situation is draining and ima try all my might to go to the vet tomorrow if she wakes.i hate this.

So I went to sleep today june 07th 2011 at 10:46pm.
I had a dream about me meeting this guy who was on side of the rode, same side i was on.
He was up ahead of me. He was nicely dressed that I previously met or so It feels like it.
He had very clean boots and his outfit was amazing.
I walked up to him saying how’s it going?
He told me oh "I changed me life".
I said "that’s good", I sat on ground upfront of him about 6 feet while he stood up leaning on something.
so are you enjoying your life?
He said "yes I am".
I told him back "well, I want to explore the world. But you know how everything costs
money in the USA". He said in a loud laughing tone "Yeah I know".
Than something bit my chest, I first smacked it for it’s guts to be on my chest. I said what was that?
He didnt respond but he acted without hesitation. He pulled me back and he grabbed one
and placed him his bag he had.
The bug looked in my dream as a flying misquito, it was greenish black.
My mom came or it appeared to me as my dream as a lady coming from same direction I walked
up to this same man.
Thats all I remember happening before I woke up and looked at the alarm clock, it was
only 1:46pm.

This dream is very true…..

This man I feel as if I met him before, Maybe in another dream I had in the past.
But I don’t remember the dream very well, This is what I make out of the dream.

There was a man who was side of road, I was walking torwards him same direction as the last dream.
There was a forest behind that man but no forest behind me. He had his hands up waving to me.
I had a sense of happyness. But this man looked really dirty, smelly, no clean clothes on his back.
I felt like I offered him help in his life, Made it turn around.

The scenary of both these dreams are the same.
I’ll try to describe it to you.
It’s a road, on the left of me. It was about dawn. There was a forest upahead on the
road and there stood there on the right upahead man who at first time I met him was poorly dressed.
After he was neatly dressed, with bushy brown hair going up. The ground was grass.

I am trapped under language
From words I can’t part
The pen’s glued to my hand
The pen’s pierced through my heart.

Computer screen eyes
Carboard for a mouth
Behind tacked-on lies
To conceal ancient doubts

My innoncence- stale
Grew old sitting there
Yet, "I’m too young to worry"
Too naive to care.

But I’m not- can’t you see?
That man on TV
Spits politics like venom
To my fragile body.

Religion calls me
Late into the night
To remind me I’m stupid
Too weak for the light.

My alarm clock goes off
So I fall into sleep
Into my real life
My freshwater dreams.

Mortality buzzes
Like a fly in my ear
But when I swat at the truth
Only I disappear.

A poem I wrote for language arts.

Truth
Andrea Wade

I am trapped under language
From it I can’t part
The pen’s glued to my hand
The pen’s pierced through my heart.

Computer screen eyes
Cardboard for a mouth
Behind tacked-on lies
To conceal ancient doubts.

My innocence: stale
Grew old sitting there
Yet, "I’m too young to worry"
Too naive to care.

But I’m not- can’t you see?
That man on TV
Spits politics like venom
To my fragile body.

Religion calls me
Late into the night
To remind me I’m stupid
Too weak for the light.

My alarm clock goes off
So I fall into sleep
I escaped from my life:
My freshwater dreams.

Mortality buzzes
Like a fly in my ear
But when I swat at the truth
Only I disappear.