This is the best time of year, second only to Fall. The days are warm and the nights are cool. Despite being violently allergic to grass pollen (shit, who am I kidding – any kind of pollen), I’m really digging sleeping with the windows open. Whether it’s 60 out at night, or 38, that ozonic smell of fresh air helps me sleep like a squishy rock.
Save for the occasional helicopter or jet flying overhead, it’s relatively quiet at night unless they happen to be doing jet engine tests at 1am. That’s completely unnecessary, assholes. I wonder if anyone has mentioned this to them?
You know what else are assholes? Birds. And squirrels. But I’ve already waged a long-term war on the squirrels so now I must shift my focus to the two plucky bastards who decide to start screaming at each other at 11:59 pm every damn night. They’re confuzzled robins who must think a street lamp is the sun and that they must vocally defend their turf. As quiet as it is without the hum of traffic a half-mile to the South, this chirping flicks me right in the eardrums and makes my entire spine twitch.
I mentioned I found my earplugs a few weeks ago which is an obvious solution, only the noise in my head is too loud and I still can’t sleep.
“What do you mean, ‘the noise in my head is too loud’?”
The whoosh of my pulse, the rattling of my sinuses, how deafeningly loud it is when my pillow shifts under my ear. Yes. Earplugs amplify the sounds that are in and close to my head. Fucking noise. Before you tell me I have problems, I’m acutely aware that my brain is wonky. Sound sensitivity, sensitivity to smells and an off flavor to anything I pretend to eat. My brain is a cockwomble.
I need a sensory deprivation tank to drown myself in. Sleep is precious and sleep is important. Those zealous nightsong twittering asshats might find themselves being stalked by some crazy person who decides to shoot pellets into their tiny bird bungholes. I don’t know who would do such a heinous thing but I hope the person in question does it soon.