As my eyes open, still heavy from the sleep, the sharp rays of the morning sun pierce through the half-tinted window and directly into my cornea, momentarily blinding me. I take a deep breath and lift my head up to a sound not unlike duct tape being ripped from human skin. My cheek is tender, so I touch it, and feel the indentation left by a large textbook, which has acted as a pseudo-pillow during my slumber. I look at my watch, curse the morning, grab my book and head to class.