An Open Letter to the Olympics

Dear Olympics,

I have been eagerly anticipating your arrival for quite some time. I love the variety of competitions you offer, the intensity and excitement of your races for the gold, the astounding history that you boast, and your general air of ceremony. I occasionally jump up and scream at the TV while watching you, celebrating (or commiserating) with the athletes. I get nervous and bite my nails. I tear up often. You are definitely providing your fair share of emotional highs, for which I give great thanks. And, as you know, anything that promotes world peace, harmony, and general togetherness always has a place in my sentimental heart, so you've definitely got me there.

But we have a problem. We are only four days in, and my circadian rhythms are already way out of whack. You see, Olympics, I usually go to bed at ten, eleven at the latest. This stumbling into bed between eleven and midnight is just not working for me, though I admit that I would rather hold my eyes open (literally) than miss an exciting medal event. And then there's the fact that I usually go to the gym in the mornings before work. I'm still making it, but if I continue to hit the pillow as the clock strokes twelve, my workout schedule is going to fall to the wayside (you, of all entities, would not want to get in the way of one's exercise, would you?). And let's not even talk about the fact that I already seem to be arriving at work a little later in the morning and leaving a little bit early (so, you know, I can finish grocery shopping and still get home in time for prime events).

Perhaps you already know that my undying devotion to you will not waver due to something as insignificant as no sleep. I will admit that you have the upper hand here. But if this continues, soon I am going to resemble a character in a Tim Burton film.

Perhaps we can reach a compromise?

Yours faithfully,
Jenn