I knew I would probably write about my sleep pattern in one way or another, most of you might already know that there’s nothing logical about my biological clock.
I can never seem to fix my sleep pattern no matter how hard I try or how long I stay up for, I don’t mind not sleeping, even though sleep can sometimes seem like the only solution.
But being so tired has nothing to do with sleeping in my case, no matter how tired I am, or how long I have been awake for, or how
much I would really love to sleep, I still won’t be able to fall asleep. I do sleep, and when I sleep, I sleep like a bear that has been hibernating for the winter, but I have come to terms with the fact that I won’t sleep at normal times or have anything close to a normal human’s sleeping patterns.
I envy people who can easily fall asleep once they decide to do so, they are truly blessed with something I wish I had.
You guys suck.
And even after I left the country and moved to my dream city, I still can’t seem to fix this problem, so I decided I should
just accept it and live with it.
It was 3 AM, everyone I know was dead asleep and I wanted to go out so bad, I wasn’t even close to sleepy. Even though it was raining outside, I decided I should go out anyway and just walk around, maybe that will help me finally sleep.
Knowing that there’s nothing to do in Florence at night, I didn’t have a certain plan or anywhere to go, I just kept walking.
After an hour of walking in the rain (It’s not as sad as it sounds, okay?) I bumped into a drunk group of Italians by Piazza Republica, they came to speak to me in Italian and I was like “Oh boy, here we go again.” I told them my famous phrase “Non parlo Italiano!”
They asked me where am I from, and the second I told them I’m from Egypt, they gave me a drunk “WOOOOOOW, Cleopatra!”
I’m so used to hearing this now, whenever I say I’m from Egypt, someone has to call me Cleopatra or tell me I look like her. (As if they know what she looks like!)
They told me I should go eat with them and they’ll teach me Italian phrases and hangout.
Seeing how drunk they were and how sober I was, I wasn’t really up for it, but you can’t argue with a bunch of drunk Italians, you just do as they say, and it’s not like I had something better to do either way!
We walked to Mcdonalds (The only place that’s open 24/7) Where i was referred to as only Cleopatra (since they didn’t know my name), and I just answered (oh god, I’m too sober for this.)
Anyway, we reached our destination, we ordered, and we started talking.
Now we all know that in Egypt, the second we meet a foreigner, we teach him all the Egyptian curse words and hear him say it so we could laugh about it; that’s exactly what happened to me, in Italy, by Italians! I already know almost all of the curse words in Italian, but those kids are creative and they were enjoying every second of it, so in exchange, I taught them a few Arabic ones. (Because that’s the only proper thing to do!)
Before they finished eating and before the whole night got even weirder than it was, I said I had to go, and started walking back home, memorizing the phrases they taught me.
My randomly insane night, finally made me sleepy and while I was in my bed I thought to myself “What the hell was that?”