Missing in Minnesota

My reality has experienced a paradigm shift in sensing time. Mentally, the week is three 'days'. Weeknights have become but a powernap in what feels to be the longest day of my life each week. It's not a physical drain, as I'm getting roughly 7hr/night. I feel like my mind just doesn't have the ability to process and sort the behemoth stack of information from the day. It'll be midnight and I'm laying in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, thinking about what I need to do tomorrow when my phone rings. Who would call me at this hour? I grab my phone and realize it's actually my alarm and sit up in bed stunned. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

I'd say its the worst part of my day, but when you initially thought you had just jumped into bed--it's no different then realizing you forgot to brush your teeth before getting in, only when you return from the bathroom--some jackass changed your clock and the sun is out. In an odd way, I revel in it. The accomplished feeling after crunch time is a euphoria I usually have to pay to experience.

This does destroy whatever aspect of a social life I thought I had. This morning at work I totalled ~65-70hrs/week for homework, studying, and classtime. Really, what do you say?

"Hey, how about we go out Friday from 4pm-10pm"
"What? Why only till 10pm?"
"Well, my body normally shuts down around that time, so hope to whatever deity you pray that you have me near a bed, couch, or someplace you won't have carry me far because I'll be out cold when the clock hits 10pm."

In this life there is no glass slipper, carriage, or happily ever after, just a lame engineering student that is now your problem.