My graduate level computer architecture class, the one defining class of my major, is held in a corner classroom of the Everitt Laboratory. The order in which students fill up the rows of seats is reminiscent of army formations in days of yore. The front-line of the army is armed with note-pads, calculators, pencils and self-raising right arms in case of a question. The ranks behind this have more sophisticated intelligence garnering devices such as laptops and PDAs which can efficiently switch from minesweeper and solitaire to chat messengers, online sportscasts, and in case of EXTREME danger, the lecture notes. The last few rows make up the army's dispensary. Some soldiers in these rows stare with sad hollow eyes at the screen. Poor victims of powerpoint poisoning. Their faces are tinged blue from the reflection of a thousand powerpoint slides. Others clutch their heads in death grips trying to protect their hung-over minds from exploding from all the noise being generated at the head of the army and by the professor's chalk on the board. They think of a happier time, being back at the bar-deen quad library, getting drunk on knowledge, while pretty sorority sisters flash their ids to check out books, and pot-bellied engineers smoke away the dubious distinction of being bad at business by cramming for Accounting 302.

It is in this melting pot of activity that I find myself at 1pm, twice a week waging a bloody, ghastly war against the need for an afternoon nap. Now normally, I wouldn't be such a wet blanket about giving in to the need for a nap, but the problem is starting to threaten my career. This classroom is a death-trap for anyone who has not taken five cups of coffee, with several shots of espresso each, within the last hour, intravenously.  I am located exactly at the line dividing the dispensary and the intelligence accumulation squadron. I have lost these battles against the nap quite regularly over the past several weeks. Last Thursday, I fell asleep before the professor walked in. Today will be different. I slept for 12 hours last night. From recommendations of friends, I have made my seating conditions as non-conducive to sleeping as possible. I have installed several useless expired credit cards and coupons in my wallet located in my back pocket so that my right rectal cheek is highly elevated and in extreme pain. I chew on some ridiculously weird flavored gum and brace myself as the professor starts discussing timing issues in logic circuits. I look for ancillary entertainment sources to keep awake.

 I notice an IITian with a very perturbed look on his face as if he has taken extreme offense to what the professor has just said. It is immediately obvious that he's concentrating. I decide to mimic him. I need to look mighty peeved. I try to remember something annoying that happened today to me to make my expression authentic. But I draw a blank...the day so far has been just peachy.  I furrow my eyebrows into a uni-brow and flare my nostrils. I scowl like I just smelled something bad. Overall, anyone watching me would be convinced that I am very annoyed with Fishburn's 1992 IEEE publication about Clock skew optimization for current reduction. The IITian drops his fierce expression after some time and smiles in agreement. He's at peace with the world again. I relax my masterpiece expression too. I relax my tense, angry muscles... no sense in bearing animosity in your heart for too long. It can kill you.

The professor's melodic voice rises and falls....in perfect harmony with the trees outside, the dying air-conditioner and my deepening breaths. They resonate together to form the drum beats of Warrior Nap's victory dance. My eyelids crash into each other and hold on to each other for dear life. I sink lower into the plush seat. I assume the fetal napping position and succumb to the greater warrior. At some point, I wake up, look at my watch and realize there are only fifteen minutes of lecture left. I cuss quietly at how soon my nap will end and curl back to sleep. As I doze off again, I realize I have swallowed my gum.