Wednesday, August 27, 2008

I Hate Undergrads

No, I don't have my students yet, the undergrads I'm referring to live all around me. They are "upperclassmen" if they even deserve the title.

I would start with a picture of team front-lawn-beer-pong-overlooking-construction but I can't find the cord to get such images off my digital camera.

But team-front-lawn-beer-pong is pretty much harmless except for the Coors Light cans that end up rolling under my Honda.

At 5 a.m. this morning someone starts banging on my door.

5: 18 a.m. to be exact.

I am immediately awake.

My leap from sleep is made even more sudden and startling by the fact that I'm sleeping on the futon in the living room not my bed. Last night at 1 a.m. I gave up trying to sleep in my bedroom because of the crazy bass coming through the wall and went to the living room where it was quieter. That music was so loud that I could occasionally even hear the treble.

Meanwhile, at 5:18 this guy is still knocking.

I grab my robe and finally open the door a hand span. There is a guy who looks no older than 17 with this crazy messy blond hair wearing gym shorts and nothing else.

He tells me that he was going to smoke, nods at the open apartment door across the hall, and said he was wondering if I'd like to join him.

This is my new neighbor. Oh.

I've never seen this guy before, that apartment was empty when I moved in, so my best bet is that he's just trying to be neighborly by sharing his weed and has no frickin concept that it is already 5 a.m.

I was polite, told him I had to work in the morning. He was apologetic for waking me. We didn't exchange names.

I went back to bed -- real bed this time -- because even the people with the uber-loud music weren't up at 5 a.m.

Highly Recommended