After a Break, I Say This

Any and all of you who keep up with this here blog I made (using software that transforms blog-making into a process which would bore a reasonably intelligent toddler) know that I shy away from talking much about my personal life.

But I recently discovered that I'm crazy.

In light of this discovery, I want to share some experiences from the past few days, not because they're important, or exciting...or at all meaningful to anyone who isn't, specifically, me. But because I'm at least a little bit convinced that telling all of my (several) readers about what's going on in Jordan Petersen's life will be fun for me.

Also, I have evidence of me = crazy. Here's the story.

I produced this film called Spit, as most of you know. It's an advanced student short film that is now finished shooting, and is in the process of editing. Anyway, on Wednesday, I, the other producer, and the director went through all of the art for the film to see what should go where, what we wanted to keep, and what should get thrown away.

In a moment of supreme obsessive compulsiveness selflessness, I offered to take a bag full of playing cards (about 20 pounds worth) home and sort them into full decks. I got home a little before 9pm and then got straight to work. Why? Because I was eager. I couldn't wait to get started on this Herculean task of exquisite tedium.

A couple of my friends who I very much love came over to just hang out, goof around, and pretend to do homework while I plowed through about seventy decks of unsorted playing cards.

It was after midnight the first time I paused to check what time it was. That was weird. But it was weirder when it was after two.

And then at about four o'clock in the morning, we all decided to go to Ihop. No, I had not developed multiple personalities disorder by then--my two good friends were still with me. Why? Because they're just cool people. And that's what cool people do.

After a hearty breakfast, I took my devotees home so they could sleep for a several hours before they each had to get up for work in the morning. Then I went home and finished the task to which I had so insanely committed myself. It was after 7am when I finally finished.

Then I saw to the laundry I had started the previous evening, studied my scriptures, made my lunch, and arrived for work on the sixth floor of the BYU library at about 8:30am.

This was yesterday. My faculties were comparable to someone who had been drinking heavily, so I don't remember much about the day. I do know I didn't sleep until 7pm, when I was with one friend waiting for another friend to show up at my apartment. In the middle of a conversation of which I remember nothing, I blacked out for about fifteen minutes and then woke up when friend dos showed up.

Here's what I learned. We've all been duped into sleeping for EIGHT WHOLE HOURS every day! You only need like 15 minutes every thirty or so hours to survive feel GREAT!

Don't worry, I did eventually get to bed around 12:30 and slept for over ten hours. Now it's today and all's back to normal. Well, except for my concern over the mentality that would allow me to work for over seven hours without pausing to sort out over seventy decks of face cards.