The Sound and (unfortunate) Fury
Tick, tick, tick...
Is it still 3:40 AM? The early morning hours of today were a constant drone of groans, mutters, snoring, and gagging through the congested lungs of my roommate. With a courtesy pause in between each new sound, maybe as to warn me of the new track looming to haunt me, each sound seemed to groan ever louder. Sometimes the grunts even coincided on perfect tempo with the ticking of either of his alarm clocks. I tried all that I could to battle the constant noise. You name it-- counting backwards, pushups (in the dark I may add, I am no rude roommate), and the various sleeping positions taken straight from the pages of the soon-to-be published guide, "How to Sleep In the Same Room With A Trainwreck". Is this single spaced font hurting your eyes?
There.
You.
Go.
I've been known to be a nice guy. A patient one as if that. Am I mad that now it feels as though I have a slight muffle in my left ventral cortex? Did I mention that I attempted to appease my tantrum stickened mind with food-- I.e. Cheetos Hot Fries, Pizza flavored Pringles (which indeed called for another trip to the bathroom to brush that breath away). Oh Chuck Palahniuk, how your stories call to me. I should have read something boring instead, hidden under my blanket like that, with a flashlight like a 13-year-old secretly checking out his older brother's snuff magazines. A call to my Only didn't even do the deal-- I apoligize again sweets for the late night call.
Did I fall asleep? Eventually. Only to be awaken two and 30 ticks later by the triple-wham of our three alarm clocks.
--I'm not mad at him by the way. I'm furious at his nasal cavities, however.
He calmly hit both of his snoozes and fell back asleep.
Is it still 3:40 AM? The early morning hours of today were a constant drone of groans, mutters, snoring, and gagging through the congested lungs of my roommate. With a courtesy pause in between each new sound, maybe as to warn me of the new track looming to haunt me, each sound seemed to groan ever louder. Sometimes the grunts even coincided on perfect tempo with the ticking of either of his alarm clocks. I tried all that I could to battle the constant noise. You name it-- counting backwards, pushups (in the dark I may add, I am no rude roommate), and the various sleeping positions taken straight from the pages of the soon-to-be published guide, "How to Sleep In the Same Room With A Trainwreck". Is this single spaced font hurting your eyes?
There.
You.
Go.
I've been known to be a nice guy. A patient one as if that. Am I mad that now it feels as though I have a slight muffle in my left ventral cortex? Did I mention that I attempted to appease my tantrum stickened mind with food-- I.e. Cheetos Hot Fries, Pizza flavored Pringles (which indeed called for another trip to the bathroom to brush that breath away). Oh Chuck Palahniuk, how your stories call to me. I should have read something boring instead, hidden under my blanket like that, with a flashlight like a 13-year-old secretly checking out his older brother's snuff magazines. A call to my Only didn't even do the deal-- I apoligize again sweets for the late night call.
Did I fall asleep? Eventually. Only to be awaken two and 30 ticks later by the triple-wham of our three alarm clocks.
--I'm not mad at him by the way. I'm furious at his nasal cavities, however.
He calmly hit both of his snoozes and fell back asleep.
posted by Henry at 11:11 AM
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