Queen of the Rally

About a month before I got on a plane to come to Sydney, I decided that my motto for the trip was going to be "say yes!" This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I didn’t want to turn anything down. So far, it’s been a killer strategy.

But it got seriously tested this past weekend.

Picture this: I collapse into bed at midnight on Saturday (or Sunday morning, if you prefer) and think “Gosh, why am I so tired?”

Then I realize, oh, it’s because I’ve only slept about four hours since Thursday morning.

Let me explain how this happened. Every Thursday night, a lot of our group goes out. Since Thursday is our Friday, it’s a great night to live it up and de-stress from the week. Everyone was going to Ivy, a giant club that is probably the bane of humanity but also kind of fun.

Here’s the thing. Thursday isn’t my Friday. I actually work Tuesday to Friday, so I have an alarm that goes off at 7:20 Friday morning.

But I went out anyways, because I wanted to say yes and be a part of the family. And guess what? I had a great time.

Friday morning dawns, and I’m so tired. But I’m still breathing, so I go to work and have a productive day.

For Friday night, I had two options. The whole group was planning to go to Luna Park, something we’ve been meaning to do forever. No way I was missing that! Creepy carnivals are my aesthetic.

So I could go to Luna Park until it closed at 10, then go home and go to bed like a human. BUT I’d been invited to a party in North Sydney that same night. I wanted to go, because it seemed like a rare opportunity to attend a party in a city where I barely knew anyone.

The only issue was that I was also planning to wake up at 4:30 the next morning for a trip to Jarvis Bay.

I was running on a solid three hours of shut-eye. I decided, like a maniac, to just say yes.

Luna Park was magical. The party was a cultural experience. I collapsed into bed at about 3 a.m.

My alarm rang at 4:20 Saturday morning, and I thought, “No way. I can’t do it. I can’t get up.”

But the white sands of Hyams Beach were calling, and my motto rang in my ears (along with my alarm): say yes!

I rallied, and our day in Jarvis Bay was a dream. It was one of the most gorgeous beaches I had ever seen.

At the end of our four-hour trip back to Sydney, I was practically salivating at the thought of my bed. We get into Urbanest, and I’m apprehended by my friend Allie.

I’m so tired I can barely comprehend what she’s saying to me. Saturday night. Newtown. $15 cocktail jugs.

“No way,” the logical side of me says.

“Say yes!” the maniac screamed.

An hour later, I’m sitting in Newtown Hotel nearly crying from laughter. It was one of the most fun, low-key nights out I’ve had in Sydney.

Lying in bed that night, I was tired down to my bones. But I considered what I had done over the three bleary-eyed days I had just lived through.

The images that played in my brain as I fell asleep were of the view of the Sydney Harbour from the top of the Luna Park Ferris Wheel; a whole group of my new friends doubled over with laughter as we headed out to Ivy; the view of the Opera House from a stranger’s home in North Sydney; the sun reflecting off the whitest sand I’d ever seen; a lively Newtown bar full of prime people-watching fodder.

I slept until 1 p.m. on Sunday with a smile on my face. But you know the thing about sleep? I can catch up on it anywhere. All the things I dream about are things I can only do here.

I’m grateful that I rallied, that I listened to the maniac.

I’m glad I said yes.

Three weeks to go! Thanks for reading,

Sophie