I've been a really awful blogger lately! This semester has just been amazingly crazy. Anyway, though, I have a story. Sort of.
So, I went to bed early last night because I had to finish/write an essay in the morning because I didn't feel like working on it then. Well, as soon as I got into bed, the boys who live upstairs decided to have a birthday party, complete with singing (screaming at the top of their lungs) and what sounded like jumping jacks. Right above my bed. I'm actually amazed the roof didn't collapse. This went on until about four in the morning, when some of them left. And as they left, they made sure to jump on each stair so that my floor would be sure to hear it all.
My alarm went off an hour later. Somehow, even though I'd only had an hour (maybe two, tops) of sleep, I managed to dream. I can't remember my whole dream, but it had to do with a giant (by giant, I mean as tall as a two story house) bottle of orange soda about to explode. And, you see, I had to get away from it because this had happened before and a girl was killed. By orange soda. Oh, and in the dream I had a bunch of essays I hadn't written yet that I was stressing about. Well, that bit's realistic, I guess.
The weirdest part of it all, though, is what happened when I was actually awake. Because as I sat in my bed, trying to make myself get out of it, I saw one of my roommate's towel, hanging by the bed post. For a good moment, I just sat there, wondering whether it really was a towel, or if it was some creepy troll that would lunge at me and kill me if I got up. Not my proudest moment. In my defense, though, I did eventually come to the conclusion that it was a harmless towel, and I did finish my essay in time.
But I'm never getting up at such an inhuman hour as 5 am again. Maybe.