Yep, this is Going to be Posted at the Perfectly Reasonable Hour of 2 AM by Paige Mongon

As a high school teenager, I run off of the adrenaline that can only be accompanied by two and a half hours of sleep. The kind of adrenaline which numbs your mind while your body goes through all the motions of a normal day, a strange surge of energy that keeps you miraculously upright despite lacking well over 6 hours of sleep you should have had. Once upon a time, such a sleep schedule would have been ludicrous to me. Granted, that was when I still had a legitimate "bedtime" but nonetheless, I remember the summer days when I went to bed with the dying sun tossing playful shadows across my bookshelf.
Though my memory isn't the best the further back you probe into my younger years, I distinctly recall the time back in third grade when my seatmate tapped me on my shoulder during a lull in the class period. "Guess what?" he demanded, eyebrow quirked. I shrugged, my third-grade brain already wandering off to some mystical land as I doodled haphazardly on the edge of a worksheet. "I stayed up until ten last night!" he proclaimed, quite proud of himself yet playing it off as though it were a common occurrence. And at those seven words, my young mind was blown. Ten?! I remember questioning dubiously. Ten?! He vigorously nodded his head, insisting that he indeed went to sleep at ten, though on nights prior he went to bed even later like at (insert gasp here) eleven. At that point in my life, ten o'clock at night was akin to a distant, foreign land as absurd as that may seem. It was mind-boggling to me that someone sould stay up so late, persevering through the restricting barrier that was eight o'clock. I think this version of me, carefree little Paige with plastic baubles in her hair, would have been even more astounded to know that in a few years she, too, would be staying up until ten, eleven at night, oftentimes even later.
As sophomore year gradually consumes every waking hour of my day, I genuinely miss being in the younger grades because back then, I didn't really have a care in the world. I wasn't bogged down with expectations, weighed down by a single number that somehow defines you under the guise of preparing you for college (otherwise known as your GPA). My future didn't seem like a form of impending doom, and I had time to just be a kid. Most of all, as trivial as it may seem, I miss being able to sleep. To go home and fill out a worksheet or two, then be able to collapse in bed to actually rest, not cram in as little sleep as is humanly possible to be able to function through a seven-hour day. Back then, I stayed up late because I wanted to, not had to, reading only because I felt compelled to finish an obscure sci-fi novel. Now, as a teenage highschooler, I fall asleep around one, anxiety riddling my dreams as I steel myself for the inevitable workload of the next day. I spend way too much time obsessing over grades and colleges and my impending future, which seems to be bearing down on me way too soon. So, with that in mind, here's to a new(ish) school year!