Monday, April 13, 2009

Easter Rising


Last year, I didn’t give anything up for Lent. My college didn’t serve meat on Fridays, so I suppose that could be seen as a sacrifice, albeit one that had nothing to do with personal surrender. This year, however, I decided that I really needed to offer up some form of self-sacrifice. That is why I gave up late night fast food.

This might sound like a diminutive forfeiture, but I assure you it was not. I have come to find that online poker is a nine-to-five job, in that the worst players are playing from 9PM until 5AM. Think: Europeans. Think also: Drunk Americans. Because of this, it makes sense that my sleep schedule is somewhat askew. If I go especially deep in a tournament, or if I find myself sitting to the right of a complete donkey in a cash game, I am forced to continue playing, despite my tired eyes. Often, my head will hit the pillow at the same time that my parents’ alarms force them to grumble their way around the house to start their long days at work.

I usually wake up somewhere between one and three in the afternoon, at which point I eat a breakfast of either a bowl of cereal, a pop tart, or a sandwich. My parents, walking in the door after a full day at work, say “Good morning, Sleepy,” apparently in reference to one of the Seven Dwarfs. Around six o’clock, I join my parents for dinner. According to my stomach, however, that meal was called “lunch.” My stomach (whose name, incidentally, is Grumpy) begins getting quite restless around midnight, and the snack food we have around the house is generally not to his liking. Can you blame him? I mean, it is dinnertime for him. So I take the little bugger out for a late night fast food run and that is that.