Five hours

Today i noticed something about how infinitely different five hours can be. I spent an unhealthily large portion of my day asleep. This morning i "woke up" at 7, blinded by the backyard fence reflecting the sun into my eyes, it was almost like being high beamed into alertness. However, it was just a flick of my wrist and 30 thin metal sheets uniformly twisted backwards and shielded my room from the light. I vaguely recall intermittently dreaming of getting a text message, that changed everything, then realising it was a dream. Then i would over think the fact that it was a dream, abruptly stir myself awake and dive to my phone to check that i hadn't received a message, just in case. Unfortunately it was just a dream. Nobody had spontaneously sent me a text between 7 and 8 am, things were still the same, I would just have to hope that the day would fix itself.
At 11am i received a text. There are many cliched terms i could use to describe the nature of my hearts beat and its apparent proximity to my throat, so I'll be try to be original. It was as if my heart was a marching band in the very top of my chest, at the thought that she had messaged me. However, when i read who the sender was, the bandsman dropped their instruments, the drummer remained seated but changed his beat, it was more of a solemn thud, rather than a frantic thrashing. It was just my friend giving me uninteresting update about the towing of my car, great. At around 2pm, my phone rang, I did not have high expectations for this phone call, so i wasn't dissapointed when  it was simply my friend asking if I would make it to basketball on time. He was surprised to hear it was my wake up voice at 2pm, but from 7 am onward there was no real incentive for me to put both my feet on the floor. (on a side note, he would have recognised my wake up voice from 8:15am june 25th 2009 when he called to inform me that "your favourite singer is dead." to which i embarrassingly  replied "hannah montanna?" "no, michael jackson" )
So finally at 2:16pm, i flicked the blinds, and in anticlimactic fashion I stumbled on the empty coke bottle, to rise from my sleep. I lost my game, by a few points, and the team i regularly stay to watch, tied, but both games exhibited some of the most biased decisions I've ever seen. On top of losing, twice. I was coldly ignored by the girl i had spent the last 38 hours thinking about, even as I type this I have my phone on the numpad, on loud, just in case she texts me. There was much profanity shouted at the refs, a few tears shed, and many high 5's a complete overheated soup of emotion. It was when i arrived home at 7, that it occurred to me that half of my day at that point was spent in a bed. But that the half i spent in bed, was more or less no time at all. Nothing occurred, there is nothing to distinguish that time from any other morning, it won't be long till its forgotten. But the accompanying 5 hours will likely stay with me for years to come. There are two mental images in particular, the look on my friends face when he was given the most unjust foul in the history of the game, and the girl as she turned and made small talk with her sister to avoid giving me the satisfaction that i even exist to her. (But, allow me to clarify, I'm still a happy person, I can see the bigger picture, I'm not going to let my girl troubles, cause real trouble) Here is the point of this seemingly incoherent rambling, if you were to draw a graph of your life's emotion and significant times, it would have intermittent spikes, emerging from flat, much like a rictor scale on a fault line.