The clock reads 2:00 a.m. I should be asleep by now.
I studied so late last night that my eyes burn and my brain can hardly make sense of concepts I learned in elementary school.
After the hectic day I had today — writing a midterm and later cracking open my ever-exciting Qualitative Research Textbook — I rewarded myself with my warm bed and the intention of getting some much-needed Zs. I was relieved to close my eyes knowing that the next morning I wouldn’t have to get out of bed, pull off my covers in one foul swoop and face the cold, bitter air. I would be able to sleep in.
It all changed with a door slam.
The engineering boys downstairs had arrived and it seemed like they wanted everyone in a mile radius to know.
The boys wanted to play indoor racquetball. It seems you haven’t played racquetball until you’ve played it in the comfort of your living room.
Thud. Thud.
Over and over, until someone gloriously wins and cheers and chants — all noises shoot up my vents and un-rhythmically shake the floor.
Being a light sleeper, I look at one of my roommates enviously. Despite the chaos downstairs she has managed to float onto her pillow like Sleeping Beauty and doze into a deep sleep that even the loudest fire alarm wouldn’t disrupt. I can even hear snores through the walls — I’m not sure where — as if to mock me.
Another activity de jour, or rather, ce soir, is singing.
“Hey, hey baby! (Hu Ha!) I wanna know…”
Their voices vibrate the very floor I walk on (literally). It seems that the amount of fun they have at night is inversely proportional to the amount of sleep I lose.
Slowly the noise fades and after tossing and turning I doze off.
Maybe next time I’ll be brave enough to go down in my fuzzy slippers and housecoat to tell them to take it down a couple notches.
Who knows? Maybe next time I’ll join the party. Until that time, a frustrated sleeper reports that noise pollution can be solved with three things: ear plugs, a white-noise machine and a lot of willpower.
Note from the writer: the next time I couldn’t sleep I did join the party and became sucked into the ‘Hey Baby’ vacuum. Lesson learned: if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!