BYU has a no facial hair policy

I awakened this morning in a state of tired stupor. I could barely get out of bed. I just layed there blinking unintelligently up at the ceiling. “Why am I so tired?” I asked myself. But I was too tired to even think about answering myself. Finally, I rolled out of my bed and landed on the floor. “Ouch!” I had bashed my shin on the floor. My shin is in quite a painful state after I banged it pretty good on the side of the pool last night. The pain shooting from my shin through the rest of my body did little to rouse my facilities though, I was still groggy.
Trying to stay awake and focused while I was saying my morning prayers was a joke. I kept dozing off, but then snapping back awake just as my head was about to plop face down on my pillow. “Maybe it’s cause I don’t get to exercise much anymore.” I was trying to pin a reason for my tiredness. Even during my shower I was nearly falling asleep. It was a struggle to stay awake, and I was losing.
I sat trance-like through both of my classes today and tried in vain to engage my mind is some worthwhile thought. My eyes were open and my senses were all working, but by any other standards I could have been asleep. I remember vaguely making some comments in my classes. I can’t remember what responses I got from my peers and teachers but they probably were sniggers. My mind was not anxiously engaged as it should have been. At one point I was suddenly jolted into a brief state of awareness, I made some statement in my Historians Craft class and then my teacher started coming after me. Not coming after me in a physical sense, but he started demanding that I explain myself and try to take my point deeper. I fumbled stupidly with the button of my left shirt pocket. I couldn’t even remember clearly what I had said, how was I supposed to defend and expound upon it? I must’ve said something that made sense, cause he stopped coming after me. Either that, or whatever I said was just so retarded that he decided not to waste anymore time on my bumbling.
After class, I was wandering around zombie-like when from behind I heard a familiar voice, “Is that Skyelr?” I almost didn’t want to turn around. I knew that voice, and there was once a time when I loathed the very sound of it, but now I was just too tired to care. I spun on my heal, “Hey Peterson,” I said “how’re you doing?” It was my old MTC companion. I’ve never really cared too much for the kid, but he makes such an effort to be nice to me that I can’t help but to be quite civil back to him. He introduced my to his wife, and then walked with me toward the library. He got my cell phone number and I got his and then we both continued on toward our various destinations. I don’t know where he was headed, but I had a library assignment to take care of.
Once inside the library, I made a bee-line for the bathroom. I was still in the same sort of dazed funk that I had been in ever since morning. The sound of my urine splashing into the urinal was soothing and reminded me just how tired I was. “I need caffine and I need it now.” I thought to myself as I spun around to wash my hands. The mirror above the sinks showed me the image of a tired, worn-out looking guy. I gazed into the reflection, and admired my barely visible sideburns. “If I just keep letting ‘em grow, someday they’ll look really cool.” With that thought, I left the restroom with my spirits lifted considerably. That, my friends, is the power of sideburns. Even when nothing else is going great, if you have some good sideburns to admire (or any good facial hair for that matter), the whole day just seems better.