I have discovered that I may have a curious affliction. I have decided to blame it on the karma because it is natural and a little bit more satisfying that blaming quantum physics. It means that I actually did something for the horrible luck I’ve been having and also makes a considerably better story.

You see, as a child, I slept well… ridiculously well. I slept through gerbils, sirens, dinners… I slept well at my house, I slept well at other peoples houses, I slept well on the floor, and I always took sleep when I needed it. It was great.

Now, there was a dark side of my joy, I was also the single most noisy child that you ever heard of. When I was awake, I would be constantly singing or humming or making up dialogue for my stories (Yes, out loud. I was a very strange child that decided to grow up in a fairly unusual adult.)

Then, karma caught up with me. The first time I spent away from home, the girl across from me like to sleep with a plastic purple giraffe in her mouth, an object that made her snore like a freight train. The second time, I slept in a room with a person who was allergic to light (or at least she seemed like it) and would insist on turning them off early and yell at me every three seconds if I tried to read with my portable one, which was a little bit ridiculous on my part, but then you have to consider that she also wouldn’t let any bug be killed in her presence… and yet refused to escort them outside, which meant that I had to pick up this gross what’s it called and dump it in the rocks for her.

Sleeping in Germany wasn’t half bad, (but I suppose, considering the rest of the trip, that would be cruel and unusual) so I managed to get pretty good sleep until college. I lived right next to the lobby, which was the local congregation spot for everyone on the floor. Also, my next door neighbor liked music… a lot and proceeded to play it at every imaginable hour of the day, including once at four in the morning where I finally threw down the gauntlet and asked her to turn it down (I’m really a pushover when it comes down to it). Before you think I’m just sensitive: that room got a record number of noise complaints that year, a feat only beat by the previous year by the same person.

The following year, I moved down the hall. My friend lived down there and she said that it was much quieter. Unfortunately, that year she got a new roommate and they all decided that right in front of her door was the best place to gossip nonstop about everyone else on the floor: this was when I started to suspect that I was in hell.

The following year, you heard about. On one side was a new music afficinado with the great sound system and on the other was the girl who was depressed all the time and loved to talk about it very loudly and at great length right next to my wall.

That summer, when I lived in a house all by myself, I miraculously got a wall that adjoined that of my neighbors though which I could hear the complex stages of their turbulent relationships complete with makes up sex.

But it really wasn’t until this year that I started to put things together. An entirely new place, an entirely new room and here: a new set of noisemakers. The girl right next door to me is a singer. She sings a lot during the day, but at night, she will hit random vibrato keys. She says it’s because she’s afraid it will go away. Sometimes, however cruel that may be, I wish it would. Also, they seem to be magnetically attracted to hanging out in front of my room. I’m by another ‘lobby’, a place not designated as such until the chairs came in *shakes fist*. That’s not the end of it though. Every morning at seven or earlier, the dump truck comes to pick up out large trash can outside, complete with back up noises.

That’s when I decided: I’ve been cursed. I suppose quantum physics would be kinder to me, it would mean that my string of bad luck would eventually go away and I would eventually be able to sleep like a normal person. Even vengeance might be a nice solution: I am loud and therefore they are loud. But it seems that despite the lengths I go to keep my music absolutely mute and not hum at all, the situation has scarcely altered. I suppose I will resign myself to my karma, carrying in my mind the memories of yesterday, the days that I sung and laughed, the days when I slept through anything.

You should get earplugs or noise-cancelling head phones or something. I sent you the white noise machine and the neck thing yesterday, so they should arrive soon. The worst is when people are talking right outside your room. Maybe you just need to come to the door looking like hell and squinting out into the light a couple times to get the point across. The white noise machine will help with faint, intermittant noises, like your neighbors having sex or someone breathing heavily. It might not be enough for loud talking. But you can try it out. I really depended on earplugs when I was on S@S. Remember at girl scout camp that girl who used to talk and sing the ABCs in her sleep and stuff? So much so that you came to sleep with me in my "tabin"? Fun times.
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» Tory (61.178.63.198) on 2010-09-04 10:02:34

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