All that is penetrating through the haziness of my mind is: How in the world will I keep my eyes open today?

“Perela!” my mother pleads. “You really don’t want to be late!”

I want anything as long as I can sleep, but somehow I find myself out of bed. My eyes are still half-shut. Once I’m up, though, I might as well try to make it to school on time. I set a record for myself and get dressed and ready in four minutes. No, my hair is not done. Too bad.

I come downstairs and my mother pushes a sandwich and an apple into my hands. I grab a packet of iced coffee powder and a granola bar and we head to the car.

I feel like a walking zombie. Hopefully I’ll have time to make myself a coffee right after davening.

All that is penetrating through the haziness of my mind is: How in the world will I keep my eyes open today?

And I don’t. They close of their own accord during halachah class. I’m grateful that at least if Mrs. Berkowitz never knew I existed, it still applies today. She pays me no heed.

But of course, I am mortified, especially when Dassi starts nudging me with her elbow.

“Late night?” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I mumble